Chapter 1359
Chapter 1359:
“Silence!”
Jett’s roar rattled the room, making my ears ring. He lunged forward, seizing Lucian by the collar, his veins bulging like twisted ropes under his skin.
I leaned against the window frame, arms crossed, and cut in sharply, “No time for your squabbles. Makenna’s the priority.”
Jett released Lucian with a shove and turned to me, his eyes blazing.
“Dominic, storming the Wizard Clan’s palace alone—do you have a death wish?”
I met his stare, unflinching. “For Makenna, I’d walk through fire.”
The room fell into a tense, suffocating silence, our shadows warring on the wall like specters locked in combat.
After what seemed like an eternity, Jett spun away, barking at Lucian, “Gather the soldiers. Now!”
Dominic’s POV:
The night hung heavy and moonless as I followed Jett toward the wrought-iron gates of Colt’s villa.
“Surround it,” Jett ordered with a flick of his wrist. Like clockwork, the soldiers dissolved into the darkness, forming a tight perimeter around the estate.
Suddenly, the sharp clash of blades tore through the air, followed by deep, guttural snarls—the unmistakable cry of werewolves in battle.
Jett and I exchanged a glance. Without a word, we kicked the gates open in unison.
Inside the garden, chaos had taken root. Colt stood at the center, his guards fanned out behind him like a sea of black armor, hemming Bryan and the others in on all sides.
Clayton was down on one knee, cradling Makenna’s limp form with trembling arms.
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In front of them, Bryan—fully shifted into his wolf form—stood like a fortress. His coat, once a proud mix of black and ash-gray, was now slick with blood. Thick strings of saliva, darkened with the gore of his enemies, dripped from his snarling jaws.
What in the world was Bryan doing here—in the heart of Wizard Clan territory?
Questions burned through my mind, but this wasn’t the time for answers.
“Well, isn’t this a charming little reunion,” I drawled, striding forward beside Jett with a sneer.
Bryan and Clayton caught sight of us—and I saw the shift in their expressions, subtle yet unmistakable. Relief.
Colt turned at the sound of our arrival. His eyes narrowed into venomous slits the moment they landed on Jett.
“My dear brother,” he sneered. “To what do we owe the honor?”
Then his gaze slid over to me, and a cruel smile tugged at the edge of his mouth.
“So this is it—Jett, conspiring with werewolves? Treason, plain and simple. If I butcher you all tonight, I doubt Father would waste a breath in protest.”
“Let them go!” Jett cut in, his voice cold and precise as steel.
Colt’s smile dropped.
“And if I don’t?”
The tension skyrocketed instantly.
.
.
.