I Am His Wolfless Luna Chapter 185

Aria's POV

Victor's body slumped to the ground, the silver knife still protruding from his chest. A strange silence descended over the battlefield, as if nature itself held its breath to acknowledge the end of a decades-long vendetta. Blood pooled beneath him, seeping into the soil—the final offering of a man consumed by hatred.

I stepped back, my hand still tingling from the force of the thrust. Ethan's breathing was heavy beside me, his partial transformation receding as the immediate threat ended. His eyes, still glowing with Alpha power, met mine.

"It's over," he said simply, his voice rough with emotion.

But it wasn't. Not completely.

"Emma," I said, the name tasting bitter on my tongue. "She was here. I saw her."

Ethan's jaw tightened, his gaze sweeping the battlefield where our warriors were securing the remaining rogues. "Are you certain?"

"Cassandra caught her scent," I confirmed, feeling my wolf's agreement rumble through our shared consciousness. "She was aiming a gun at your back while you fought Victor."

We left David in charge of the cleanup, with strict instructions to verify every rogue was either captured or dead. No loose ends, no future threats to our family. The drive to Victor's hidden compound was tense, our bodies still humming with adrenaline from the battle.

"Is your shoulder alright?" I asked, noting how Ethan favored his left side where Victor's blade had caught him.

He nodded grimly. "It'll heal. The silver slowed things down, but it was just a graze."

"We need to check on the children," he said, voicing the concern that had been gnawing at me since we'd heard about the compound attack. "As soon as we deal with Emma."

"The Silver Moon warriors got there in time," I reminded him, though the worry wouldn't fully subside until I held my babies in my arms again.

The roads grew rougher as we ventured deeper into rogue territory, finally turning onto an unmarked dirt path that wound through dense forest. Victor had chosen his hideout well—remote enough to avoid casual discovery, yet close enough to launch attacks on our borders.

"There," Ethan said, pointing through the windshield at a sprawling wooden structure partially hidden among the trees. "Motion at the west side."

Following my enhanced vision, I spotted a figure moving frantically between buildings in Victor's compound. Emma was darting back and forth like a panicked mouse, arms laden with what appeared to be clothing and bags. My jaw clenched as disgust washed over me.

"There she is," I spat, pointing toward the movement. "Gathering her precious belongings."

We parked our vehicle well away from the compound, approaching on foot through the dense underbrush. The place was unnervingly silent—a ghost town now that most of its inhabitants lay dead or captured on our territory. Each step we took was measured and silent, fallen leaves barely whispering beneath our feet as we circled toward the western entrance.

Through a gap in the partially open door, the scene inside made my stomach turn. Emma was in a state of frenzied panic, her movements jerky and desperate as she stuffed designer clothes into an oversized suitcase. Her face was flushed, hair disheveled, eyes wild with fear. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she frantically sorted through jewelry cases scattered across the rumpled bed.

I watched in revulsion as she paused to admire a diamond bracelet before securing it in a velvet pouch, her hands trembling but careful with the expensive trinket. She actually took time to fold a silk blouse properly before adding it to her escape bag, while muttering curses under her breath about leaving other items behind.

The memory of what this woman had done—her role in my assault years ago, her betrayal of our pack, her conspiracy with Victor that threatened my babies—made Cassandra stir violently beneath my skin. My fingernails dug into my palms as I watched Emma place a designer perfume bottle into a side pocket with more care than she'd likely ever shown another living being.

Inside, Emma was now frantically searching through drawers, tossing aside less valuable items with careless abandon while clutching expensive jewelry to her chest. She actually stopped to try on a gold necklace, checking her reflection in a mirror despite the clear urgency of her situation. The absurdity of it might have been comical if it weren't so utterly repulsive.

"Ready?" Ethan asked, his body coiled with tension beside mine.

I felt Cassandra's anticipation merge with my own, a low growl building in my chest that wasn't entirely human. My lips pulled back in something that wasn't quite a smile.

"More than ready," I replied, feeling a cold calm settle over me. "Let's end this."

We moved with predatory synchronicity, bursting through the door in a blur of coordinated motion. Emma screamed, stumbling backward until she collided with the dresser behind her. A cascade of perfume bottles crashed to the floor, the heavy scent of expensive fragrances filling the air as glass shattered. Her eyes, wide with terror, darted between us and the window—calculating if she could reach it before we caught her.

"Don't," Ethan warned, his voice deadly quiet. "You'll only make it worse for yourself."

Her face, once so pretty with its calculated smiles and practiced pouts, crumpled into an ugly mask of fear. I watched as a dark stain spread across the front of her designer jeans—she'd actually wet herself in terror.

"Please," she whimpered, sinking to her knees among the broken glass and spilled perfume. "I didn't have a choice. Victor made me do everything."

The pathetic lie hung in the air between us. I stepped forward, feeling rage bubble up from some deep, primal place within me.

"You didn't have a choice?" I repeated, my voice dangerously soft. "When you lured me to that hotel room six years ago, claiming you'd been kidnapped? When you stood in that parking lot with Bella and laughed while I stumbled away, drugged and violated?"

She flinched with each accusation, tears streaming down her face. "I'm sorry, Aria. I was young and stupid. Bella manipulated me. I didn't know what would happen to you. I swear!"

"And more recently?" Ethan interjected, his voice like ice. "When you joined Victor and helped him plan attacks on our borders?"

Emma's gaze dropped to the floor, her shoulders shaking with sobs. "Victor would have killed me if I refused. You don't know what he was like!"

I laughed, the sound hollow and without humor. "Oh, I think we have a pretty good idea. We just killed him, after all."

Her head snapped up, hope flickering across her tear-stained face. "He's dead? Really dead?"

Emma's eyes darted frantically between us, her chest heaving with panicked breaths. Her gaze fixed on a narrow gap between Ethan and the doorframe, muscles tensing as she prepared to bolt.

"Don't even think about it," I warned, but desperation had already overwhelmed her reason.

She lunged suddenly, ducking low and launching herself toward the sliver of space with surprising speed. For a heartbeat, I thought she might actually make it—fear had transformed her into something wild and unpredictable. Her shoulder nearly cleared the doorway when Ethan moved to intercept her.

But I was faster.

Cassandra surged through me with the force of a tidal wave, my transformation so rapid it felt like an explosion of silver-white fur and raw power. My human form vanished in an instant, replaced by massive jaws that snapped closed around Emma's calf mid-stride.

Her scream pierced the air as my teeth sank deep into flesh and bone. The metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth as I jerked my head sideways, sending her sprawling across the floor. Designer clothes scattered around her as she tumbled, her body making a sickening thud against the far wall.

"Aria, please!" she shrieked, scrambling backward on bloodied hands, leaving crimson smears across her precious silks. Her eyes bulged with terror as she took in my transformed state—the silver-white wolf that towered over her, teeth bared and still dripping with her blood. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean—"

I stalked forward, each step deliberate, my massive paws crushing perfume bottles beneath them. The mixed scents of expensive fragrances mingled with the sharp copper smell of her fear and blood.

*You're only sorry you got caught,* Cassandra's voice projected directly into her mind, making Emma flinch violently as if struck. The intrusion of another consciousness into her thoughts seemed to terrify her even more than my physical form.

"No, no, I mean it!" Tears streamed down her face, washing away carefully applied makeup in ugly black rivulets. She tried to press herself through the wall behind her, her injured leg trembling uncontrollably. "I'll do anything! I'll serve you! I'll—"

A growl rumbled through my chest, silencing her pathetic bargaining. Emma's gaze darted sideways toward a half-open window, her body tensing once more. The moment she moved, I pounced.

She had barely shifted her weight when my massive form crashed into her, powerful jaws closing around her throat. Her scream died instantly, transformed into a wet, gurgling sound as my teeth punctured her windpipe. My momentum carried us both into the dresser, shattering the mirror above it in a cascade of silver shards that rained down around us.

Her hands beat weakly against my fur, fingers grasping and then gradually slackening. Blood pulsed hot and thick against my tongue, the coppery taste a primal satisfaction that resonated through both Cassandra and me. I could feel her life draining with each racing heartbeat, her struggles growing feebler by the second.

Our eyes locked in those final moments—hers wide with disbelief and fading consciousness, mine burning with amber fire.

Then she went still, body slumping lifelessly beneath my paws.

I released her throat, stepping back as blood pooled across the floor, soaking into the expensive clothes she'd tried so desperately to save. The woman who had orchestrated my humiliation, who had helped poison me, who had threatened my children, lay dead among the material possessions she had valued above all else.

The symmetry felt right. Final.