The Play-Toy Of Three Lycan Kings-Chapter 366: Night Walks

I felt my skin go cold in spite of the heat of my magic. My mind too wasn’t left out—the plan and all of its scaffolding were scattering themselves, pushing forcefully against it, causing my head to pound.

Darius. Had I been stupid to let him live? Yes. I had.

Freda would be disappointed in me for hesitating in that field. I had been softened by his tears of blood, by the sudden linking that happened between us, and had let him go. And now, I was paying the price; now, my plans were about to be shredded.

My teeth wouldn’t stop gritting. I was losing control of my unbothered façade, but the anger just wouldn’t let me see reason. Darius was closer than anyone had the right to be; he was closer to reading my intent like a book in his hand.

"You’re persistent," I said, exhaling weakly, trying for casual. My voice, however, did not sound casual.

He cocked his head, that slow, predatory tilt. "You are too clever to be undone by a little curiosity, Sage. But do you really think you can hide from me? Did you think I was kidding earlier?"

A pause. "Yes, I said that you weren’t the darkness, but that doesn’t mean that you won’t lead me to it." he smiled... if that could be called that. "And you will surely lead me to it."

I tightened my jaw. Trouble. I should have killed him. This became a chant in my head, worsening the headaches.

Breathe.

If El was a physical being, I would have burned her alive. She was the reason why I was in this mess in the first place. She had possibly created the link so that I wouldn’t kill Darius.

Of course, blame me.

Darius pushed himself away from the fence. "Are you that shocked that I am here?" He shrugged. "You should have taken my words with a pinch of salt."

I exhaled again, letting the anger and confusion trickle away. Yes, this was not where I wanted him but I shouldn’t let him get to me.

I still needed to be in the caves.

Yet, how could I get past this fellow?

Darius could surely not go with me; his presence would change everything. He would read the wards and notice the places I prodded. He would watch me find what I wanted and decide, perhaps, that destroying it was simpler than bargaining.

No, he couldn’t.

"Move," I said sharply.

He smiled, a half curl of lip, and did not move. "You’re going somewhere right? Maybe back to your base? I didn’t follow you the last time because I thought you were just going to see a boyfriend or something..."

My fingers twitched at my side. There were a thousand knives I could throw in his direction—metaphorically, magically. I did not. Not yet. Tonight the plan mattered more than drama.

"I’m not here to entertain you," I said.

"You never are," he replied. "But I wondered—what do you hope to find in the dark that you so fear to bring into the light?"

I opened my mouth, closed it. Every truthful answer was a trap. Every lie might anchor him to me more tightly than I wanted.

So I shrugged, the smallest shrug that said nothing, and pushed past him, hood up, senses sharpened like knives. And just as I thought, he turned aside, ready to jump when I did.

"You are not following me, Darius."

My voice was sharp enough to cut the wind, but the man—or rather, the ancient—only smiled like I’d told him something amusing. That lazy, knowing smirk of his was enough to make me want to conjure a storm and strike him out of existence.

"Oh, I will," he said, tone maddeningly calm. "Unless you want to fight me for it. But remember..." his eyes glimmered faintly silver in the moonlight, "ancients are stronger at night. The abstenum ring might let me walk freely under the sun, but it binds a portion of my strength. Take that away," he tilted his head, "and you wouldn’t stand a chance."

I glared at him, ignoring the little twist of curiosity that his words sparked. Stronger at night. I’d read that once, buried in a witch’s diary centuries old. The ancients had been the gods’ sexual experiments—pure energy and flesh bound into form. Too much power for one body, yet they walked freely.

Why would the gods allow something like them to live amongst the lesser beings? Why allow them to roam?

If they had been as malevolent as the vampires, no species would have survived. They could have ended every living thing without effort. It made me wonder if the gods had simply gotten bored and tossed them away like unwanted toys, leaving the world to deal with the remnants.

"I don’t want to fight you," I said finally, voice tight.

"Good," Darius replied easily, brushing invisible dust from his sleeve. "Then I suppose I’ll just follow. I can pretend to be a vampire if that’ll make you feel better."

I folded my mouth, trying not to show how much I wanted to throw something at him. Pretend to be a vampire?

Still, arguing was pointless. The more I spoke, the more determined he seemed to be. So I said nothing, exhaled sharply, and vaulted over the fence.

Behind me, I heard his soft laugh and the light thud as he landed on the other side.

We walked in silence, the path before us stretching into the pale emptiness of the barren lands. Every footstep crunched on the dry soil, the air thick with the scent of old blood and forgotten battles.

My mind worked fast. The teleportation point was ahead, marked only by ancient stones and an enchantment no one but a witch could use. Darius wouldn’t be able to follow me through it. He might be strong, but the point recognized nature.

The thought brought a small, sly smile to my lips. Finally, some peace.

"This land..." Darius’s voice broke the quiet. He had slowed, his eyes on the cracked earth. "Do you know how much blood was spilled here?"

I looked ahead, pretending not to hear.

He continued anyway, voice lower, more thoughtful. "I’ve seen the way the soil breathes—how the magic clings to it. There’s a pulse beneath, faint, but steady. Once, I felt others here. Magic-wielders. They came in the night."

That made me slow down my walking pace. "You saw them?"

"Felt them," he corrected, glancing at me sidelong. "Felt something. Ancient, raw... ugly. Like blood being forced to whisper."

A frown pulled at my face. Why hadn’t the Queen said anything? If magic-wielders were on this land, feeding on its energy, I should have been told. Unless she didn’t want me to know.

I remembered Peter’s comment. The Queen had lied to me. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

A second confirmation of this didn’t sit well with me.

"What do you think they were doing?" I asked.

He gave me that look again, as though measuring how much truth to give. Then, with a shrug, said, "Harvesting. Drawing energy from the soil. Every soul that died here was supernatural—witches, wolves. That makes their essence volatile. Whoever’s doing this is keeping the souls from passing into the afterlife."

His eyes lifted to the horizon. "It’s cruel, and dangerous. That kind of energy... festers."

I kept my expression neutral, even though my chest felt tight. "What could they possibly use it for?"

He arched a brow. "Isn’t it obvious? Black magic. The kind that rots what it touches. Energy tainted by death can’t create—it only consumes. And if they keep at it, this corruption will spread. The land will sicken, and the sickness will move outward—through roots, through air, through time."

His words settled like a chill in my bones.

The Queen was keeping secrets—again. But to what end? And why wasn’t I involved?

Who then was involved? The vampires?

I pushed down the unease and asked, "Why didn’t you trace them?"

Darius’s jaw flexed. "I tried. But every time I followed the trail, it vanished. Like they dissolved into the air. Clever cloaking magic—old, very old."

I pressed my lips together, pretending to think. But I knew what he meant. Disappear into thin air—that was the work of the teleportation wards.

We reached the ring of standing stones, hidden from mere eyes. They were dull and cracked, but the markings carved into them still thrummed faintly when I stepped close. Darius crouched to inspect one of them, his hand brushing over the surface.

"These aren’t ordinary," he said. "Whoever made them, bound a lot of power here."

I didn’t answer. Instead, I moved hastily into the circle’s center, murmuring the words under my breath. The air folded, the ground hummed, and then the world snapped in on itself—

Teleportation.

For a moment, everything was noise and light. When I opened my eyes again, I was standing behind Peter’s hut, the cold night air familiar and grounding. My fingers tingled from the shift, my pulse still quick.

I looked aside. Alone. Perfect.

Or so I thought.

"So," a voice said from behind me, low and amused, "that’s how it’s done."