His Abandoned Luna Chapter 179

|| Alaric's POV ||

The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and rusted metal as I pulled up to the abandoned safehouse. My fingers tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles whitening. Elias. The name tasted like poison. He had dared to claim Lilac— my Lilac— as his mate. And now, he was going to tell me why.

The moment I stepped out of the car, the wind howled through the trees like a warning. My wolf bristled beneath my skin, sensing deception in the air. The door creaked open before I could knock, revealing one of my men, his face grim.

"Alpha," he greeted, bowing his head.

Then my eyes met Endora. Why was she here? She bowed as well.

I didn’t return the gesture.

"What’s happening?" My voice was low, dangerous.

Marcus swallowed. His face was pale.

"We gave him the usual dose—wolfsbane and silver. Enough to weaken him, make him talk. But…" His gaze flickered toward the basement stairs.

"But what?" I snapped.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he led the way down, the scent of blood and something wrong thickening with every step.

The basement was dim, the only light flickering from a single bulb swinging overhead. And there, in the center, was Elias— bound to a chair, head lolling forward.

Except for his face. His face was melting.

"What the fuck did you give him?" My roar shook the walls.

Marcus flinched. "The usual amount! He’s a warrior— he shouldn’t have reacted like this!"

Endora stepped forward, her wrinkled hands steady. "Let me see."

Before she could reach him, the door upstairs slammed open. Heavy footsteps pounded down the stairs.

Alexander.

His eyes locked onto Elias, and a growl ripped from his throat. "What the hell?"

"We were supposed to make him talk!" I snarled. "Not turn him into fucking soup!"

Marcus paled. "Alpha, I swear, the dosage was controlled—"

"It’s not the wolfsbane or the silver," Endora interrupted, her voice eerily calm.

Silence.

I turned to her slowly. "Then why is his face melting off?"

She tilted her head, studying Elias like a specimen. "He’s not melting. He’s shedding."

Alexander stiffened. "Shedding?"

Endora nodded. "Because of the canned food you fed him."

Marcus blinked. "It was just herbal tomato soup—"

"And those herbs are the problem." Endora’s eyes darkened. "Alpha Alaric… this isn’t a werewolf. This is a witch wearing a wolf’s skin."

The words hit like a blade to the gut.

Alexander sucked in a sharp breath. "A witch?"

Endora didn’t flinch. "Rosemary in the soup weakened the spell holding his disguise. The real Elias? He’s been dead for a long time."

With that, she reached out— and peeled the rest of his face away.

Beneath the rotting mask was another man entirely.

"So you found out," the witch croaked, his voice now entirely different— slick and mocking.

My claws unsheathed. "What happened to the real Elias?"

The witch grinned, blood dripping from his teeth. "Brave little pup. Died chasing rogues in the southern hideout. Pity."

Rage burned through me. "So your bond with Lilac— that was just a spell?"

She was away from me for days because of some damn spell!

"Took you long enough, Alpha," he sneered.

I was across the room in a heartbeat, my hand fisted in what remained of his shirt. "You’re going to tell me everything."

The witch laughed, a broken, manic laughter that shook the entire basement, "Oh, you’ll learn. But let’s hope it’s not too late for you."

"Since you have discovered me, I am useless now," he said again with a laugh.

Suddenly his body jerked. A guttural chant spilled from his lips.

"Endora—!" I barked.

But it was too late.

His eyes rolled back. His body went limp.

Endora pressed two fingers to his throat. "He's dead."

Alexander cursed, "fuck this! This is bad."

"Worse than bad," Endora muttered. "If the witches are infiltrating our ranks, then the rogue attacks are no coincidence."

I turned to her sharply. "What are you saying?"

"There could be more like him. Living among us. And those rogues with a scent and no tattoos? I have suspected it before but now I am sure of it. That’s witchcraft."

Alexander’s jaw clenched. "We need to call a council meeting. Now."

"We can’t," I said coldly.

"Are you kidding me? This changes everything!" Alexander snapped.

"Exactly. And we don’t know who else is compromised." My gaze locked onto his. "What if the other Alphas are already wearing different faces?"

The blood drained from Alexander’s expression. "You think—?"

"I think we can’t trust anyone." I replied.

My eyes flicked to Endora. She was old and capable. Endora wasn't just a healer, she came from a long lost witch bloodline who made peace with the Nightshades and stayed in the pack for centuries. They can't use magic, but they could sense it. This bloodline was good with brewing potions and medicines. That's how they became healers.

"Endora," I said slowly. "Is there a way to test for witches in the packs?"

She nodded. "I can brew something. But as far as our pack goes… there are none in ours."

I believed her. The Nightshades had a bond with the land— a blessing that repelled dark magic. But the rest of the world?

Rotting from the inside.

Alexander exhaled sharply. "So what’s the plan?"

A slow, dangerous smile curled my lips.

"Actually… maybe we should call that meeting."

His brows shot up. "You just said—"

"And now I’m saying we use it as a trap."

The room fell silent.

Then, Alexander grinned. "Now that sounds like fun."