Chapter 4 Letter From Hell.

Chapter 4

Jax POV.

Elder Dorian stood in front of me like a stone tower, unmoved, unreadable. His gaze, burning like dying coals, locked onto mine.

The silence stretched between us like that bowstring and the wolf within me snarled low and restless. There was a scent in the air, old magic.

A whisper of something unclean. Something foul. Something cursed.

My pulse thundered in my ears.

Then he spoke.

"My Lord Alpha..." His voice was low, almost a whisper. "Should I summon the Council of Elders and deliver this as the traditions demand," he tilted his head into my gaze, eyes narrowing "...would you prefer to hear it in private, as we are now?"

That tone. That damn tone. Cold. Careful. Calculated.

This wasn't just some routine update. It senses something darker.

I didn't answer right away. My gut twisted. The wolf in me growled low, sensing something foul in the air. Something cursed. Something darker. My wolf paced inside of me, eyes flattened.

I didn't respond right away. My feelings twisted like something was about to happen but I haven't figured it out yet.

"Speak," I muttered, voice clipped and sharp as a fang. "You already know what I prefer."

Dorian's bony fingers moved slowly as he shifted his totem from one hand to the other. Then, like drawing poison from his veins, he reached into the deep pocket of his elders' robe.

What he pulled out froze my blood.

A red letter again?

My breath hitched.

No.

Not again.

Exactly like the one I had given Mira yesterday.

Very ominous. Demonic and ...

The same hell-drenched letter that made me break my vow to her. The vow I swore to the stars, that I would keep her pure until the night she officially became my Luna. And now this?

He held it out to me.

"Open it," he said, voice flat.

I hesitated. My hand twitched. I looked into his eyes, crimson, but cold as granite. Held no fear. Held no tremble. He wasn't scared. He wasn't shaking.

He wasn't here for the answer. He knew what that letter carried. This was theater for him. A ritual.

With a breath, I tore the wax seal open.

My eyes scanned the jagged letters. The longer I read, the more the words cut into my soul like claws.

The blood of your fated mate, rendered during the Passover feast, is cursed and unacceptable. She must be sent out of the packland and never return.

You defied the sacred order by not waiting for the gods to reveal the proper bloodlines from which to choose your Luna...

My heart dropped into my stomach.

To atone for feeding the Queen Goddess with such poison, you must take another virgin before nightfall and lie with her before dawn. She will be your Luna, clothed in white during the ritual. She will bear your legacy.

She must be chosen from one of the three blessed families: Vexhood, Bronx, or Thornwell. If not, your line shall suffer ruin. The gods have spoken.

I crushed the letter in my hand.

"No... no, no, NO!" My breath escaped in a roar. "You bloody cun-artist!"

In a flash, I was in front of him, grabbing the collar of his robe. My claws threatened to rip through my fingertips.

"Where is she?! Where the fuck is Mira? I need to see her and apologize to her! Do you hear me?"

But before I could blink, my hand brushed the carved wood of his staff.

Lightning exploded.

A white bolt struck my chest like the wrath of the Moon Goddess herself. My body flew backward, slamming into the oak table behind me.

Wood cracked into two.

My bourbon and glass shattered mid-air and rained down like confetti of regret like a toast from gods.

I groaned. Pain sizzled through my ribs like fire ants.

I crawled up, rage pulsing like wildfire.

"DORIEN!" I charged.

Another bolt struck. Harder. Sharper. Meaner.

My body hit the floor again, this time writhing in pain. My wolf whimpered deep inside me, not in fear but humiliation.

The old bastard's voice boomed, echoing off the walls.

"The Oracle has spoken!" Dorien roared. His voice, not just human anymore, was laced with ancient magic. "Do not walk your father's path of defiance, Jax. Do not die his death, dishonored and broken."

I coughed, blood in my mouth chest heaving. "Where did you get this message?" I growled, jaw trembling with restraint.

"I woke up with it beside my pillow," he said, holding up the letter like a priest with a relic, though his voice was more snake than saint. "This is how the gods choose to speak. Through dreams and letters. You know that."

My fists clenched. My jaw tightened until it ached.

"The gods were silent while I bled in that cave, laying naked on that stone for three damn hours," I growled. "Three hours! Nothing. No vision. No voice. Just silence."

His staff slammed into the stone floor.

Boom.

The ground quaked beneath me.

"Because they are angry," Vexhood said darkly.

"With who?!" I snapped.

"With ME?!"

My voice cracked with fury. "Are they mad?! You told me... YOU told me to take Mira! To fucking sleeping with that innocent girl. You handed me the cursed fucking letter!"

He held his hand up like he could shush the storm I'd become.

He stepped closer to me, slow and deliberate and like a predator cornering it's prey

"Calm down, Jax. Watch your tongue or... "

"Or what? Or bloody what? Or bloody fucking what?" I roared at the top of my voice like a wounded lion.

"The gods, will strike me again? Rip out my heart?" My breathing was sharp, wild.

"They already did! You turned me into a goddamn pawn! I made love to that girl, Dorien. I broke her! And now she's cursed because your gods were fucking sleeping when they gave out first order !"

Dorien snarled, voice slicing through the room like steel. "Enough!"

"No," I whispered, staring at him like he was a stranger. "I won't shut up."

He stepped closer. I didn't move. My legs wouldn't let me.

"You forget your place," he said coldly.

"No," I whispered. "I finally see my place. At the mercy of your twisted politics. Your gods."

A careless humorless laughter escaped through his teeth.

"You're still king for now," he said, like it was a death sentence. "But the only suitable female for the Luna bond is Sienna Thornwell."

My blood ran cold.

" What?" My voice was a breath. A curse.

His eyes gleamed like a dying ember.

His next words were knives like stabs to my soul.

"She is the only untouched daughter from one of the three divine lines. You have until moonrise to complete the bond. Or face the wrath of the heavens."

My knees gave in. I crashed to the ground, not because of the gods, but because of the weight of this betrayal. Or a well plotted scheme against me.

Mira.

Sweet, broken Mira.

I had promised to protect her, to love her. And now... I had to throw her away? To save my crown?

No.

Not like this.

My claws pierced my own palms as I whispered, "Forgive me, Mira... I failed you."

Sweat broke from my eyes but I refused to let them fall. And if they would fall , it would not be in front of Dorien.

Above me, Dorien raised his staff again, and this time I saw it clearly:

He wasn't just an Elder. Not a guide, not even a prophet.

He was my enemy.

And the gods?

Maybe they weren't on my side anymore.

Maybe they never were.