Chapter 629: Return My Throne

At that information, Elijah’s eyes widened. "He really said that?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Christian replied. "Usually, I’d take that as the raving of a madman, but considering what’s happened lately, especially regarding Violet Purple, what if the same thing occurred here? A portal opened and took them?"

"Took them to where?" Elijah fired at him.

"That, I have no idea, Your Majesty. But what if this is all Violet Purple’s doing? We have no idea what she’s capable of. The children are smart, they must have realized you were coming for her, so they vanished," Christian surmised.

Elijah rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "No, that can’t be it. I might not know my dear niece very well, but the girl’s no coward. And Asher wouldn’t abandon his pack like that. He knows how dangerous it is to leave, especially after that rebellion. Whatever happened, I don’t think the kids had a choice."

He looked up. "Investigate deeper. Check if someone else infiltrated the Pack House during that time. Let’s hope Violet hasn’t fallen into the hands of her father."

Christian’s eyes widened. "Are you saying—" He stopped when the Alpha King gave him a sharp look. The name "Angus" was forbidden here.

Still, something didn’t add up. "If he wanted Violet Purple, why take the Alphas too?" Christian asked carefully.

"Because mates are a package deal," Elijah replied. "You can’t take one without the others losing their minds from the bond. However..." He paused, his tone darkening. "Call it instinct, but I don’t think this is his doing. We’re missing something vital here."

Something clicked in Elijah’s mind. "What about Violet’s mother? Did you find out what kind of creature she is to have given the girl such power?"

Christian hesitated, glancing toward the door to ensure no one was eavesdropping. "About that..." he began carefully. "We do know his existence"—he emphasized the word—"was kept extremely low. So even investigating who he might have had relations with, without mentioning names, is difficult. However, I received information about a healer who supposedly nursed him back to health. The timing fits and all evidence points to her being Violet’s mother. But there’s literally no information about her since his you-know-who-I’m talking-about, lived practically like a ghost."

Elijah had no words to say especially knowing how sensitive the topic of this conversation was. If news got out that Angus was still alive.....he didn’t even want to think about it.

Finally, Elijah made up his mind. "Hire the help of witches."

"Eeh—" Christian’s eyes widened.

"Enquire about Violet Purple’s whereabouts," Elijah ordered, his tone sharp. "No matter the cost."

"O-of course, Your Majesty." Christian bowed quickly and left.

As soon as Christian was gone, he slumped on the seat with a weary groan. He stared at the clock on the wall, it was nearly one in the morning. They had been working out this problem for hours now.

He reached for his tablet and replayed the footage of Violet and Alaric levitating in the air as the warehouse disintegrated into nothing. The image burned into his mind. He’d never seen power like that. What kind of abomination had his brother unleashed this time?

Elijah knew sleeping that night was out of the question. Atleast, not until Violet’s whereabouts was disclosed. President Roy would expect an update tomorrow and he had nothing for him.

He decided to go through the pile of work email waiting for him. Hence it came as a surprise when he began to doze off minutes later. At first, he fought against it, shaking his head as if trying to dispel the heaviness but it was useless.

Moments later, Elijah’s head fell forward onto the desk, the tablet slipping from his hand as the Alpha King drifted—helplessly and unnaturally—into a deep, consuming sleep.

Elijah knew he was dreaming the moment his surroundings changed. A second ago, he’d been in his quarters at the North Pack, drowning in reports. Now, he stood in the middle of his own throne room, and it was silent, and uneasily empty.

What kind of cosmic joke was this?

Then came a voice that froze his blood.

"Hello, brother."

Elijah stiffened, the sound crawling through his veins like ice. Slowly, he turned and there he was.

Angus. His brother. In flesh and blood.

It had been what again? Seventeen, eighteen years? Yet he hadn’t aged a day. The same jet-black hair. The same amber eyes. That same accursed handsome face they’d both inherited from their beautiful mother.

"Been a while, little brother," Angus said with that arrogant smirk Elijah remembered all too well.

The shock didn’t last long because rage replaced it. "You fucking bastard!" Elijah lunged, but before he could reach him, Angus vanished into thin air.

"Easy now," Angus’ voice came from behind him. Elijah spun around to find him leaning casually near the throne. "I deserve that, I’ll admit. But I can’t have you punching me in the dream realm, I might wake up with bruises." He chuckled.

Elijah’s jaw clenched. He tried to hit him again, but Angus vanished once more, his laughter bouncing off the walls.

Frustration boiled over. Elijah threw his head back and barked a bitter laugh. "Of course. Run away like the bastard you’ve always been. That’s what you’re good at anyway."

Elijah’s insult seemed to strike a nerve. The air around him crackled, and before he could react, Angus appeared behind him,

"Really? A bastard? Is that the lowest you could think of me?"

Elijah spun, startled, but anger fueled his reaction. He swung his fist only for Angus to catch it midair. With one effortless movement, Angus countered, slamming his own fist into Elijah’s jaw. The impact sent Elijah staggering backward, clutching his face, his breath ragged.

When he raised his head, his eyes burned with pure hatred. "Excited to see you?" he seethed, "You fucking rendered me sterile! I can’t have children because of you! Tell me—tell me how that’s supposed to feel!"

Angus was unfazed, "Oh. That," he said lightly. "Sorry about that. Trust me, it wasn’t intentional. I didn’t realize Amoesdus was that petty. But look at the bright side—" his lips curved into a wicked grin—"at least you can still stick it into a vagina. That should count for something."

Those words hit harder than the punch. With a guttural roar, Elijah launched himself at Angus, slamming into him with unrestrained rage. The two brothers crashed to the ground. Elijah rained blow after blow, fists fueled by years of resentment.

"You ruined me!" he shouted, striking harder with each word. "You took everything from me!"

Angus only laughed through the punches, "Really? Eveything? You are Alpha king and you seem to enjoy the position a little too much."

Elijah seemed to pause at that statement, but then the anger returned. That was no excuse. With a growl, he wrapped his hands around Angus’s throat, his knuckles whitening. "I’m going to kill you today," he snarled, his eyes glowing with red fury.

Angus vanished like a puff of smoke, and for a breathless second Elijah was staring at nothing, again. He was up on his feet when Angus reappeared as though he’d never left, folding his hands behind his back with an ease that made Elijah grind his teeth.

"I didn’t come here to fight you," Angus said, voice smooth as honeyed poison.

Elijah spat, "Then what, to mock me? Drag me out here to gloat?"

Angus chuckled, mild and bored. "I might be petty, but I have bigger things to do than gloat. I have a vision."

Elijah’s eyes narrowed, suspicion sharpening every line in his face. "After all these years, you suddenly show up with a vision? Why now, Angus?"

Angus straightened. "I want my position back."

The words fell like a stone.

For a heartbeat, no one moved.

Then Elijah laughed. It was a long, ugly sound that rolled through the room and cracked against the wall. The kind of laugh that emptied the air of warmth.

Angus let the laugh die. He tilted his head, watching Elijah with sudden cold eyes. "You’re toying with me?"

"Of course, not," Angus said, "You’ve done... well, a commendable job holding the werekind together. But the throne needs it’s true king."

Elijah’s face twisted. "Goddess save, you’re fucking serious." He breathed. "You actually think you can waltz back and take back what? Your position? After what you did?"

Angus shrugged as if the past were a small inconvenience. "I wouldn’t come if I weren’t serious."

"I should have killed you," Elijah snarled, stepping forward so close the air between them snapped. "I should’ve finished you when you were at death’s door after that ritual. It would’ve saved us all this nonscence."

Angus didn’t flinch. If anything, a faint smile ghosted his lips. "Perhaps you should have. Instead you tossed me like dirt and walked away. Now I’m back to claim what I believe belongs to me."

"Nothing belongs to you!" Elijah snapped.

"And it belongs to you?" he shot back, daring him to answer.