Chapter 639 – Aren’t they dangerous?

Chapter 639: Chapter 639 – Aren’t they dangerous?

"Alpha Ravyn, it’s about exports and imports. A greater part focuses on shipping as well, but the thing is, this business involves the Lycans."

Ravyn nodded slowly, his expression carefully neutral. He had suspected the people Jaron sent weren’t their kind. There was something off about their scent, their posture, their too-perfect stillness. "Aren’t they dangerous?"

"They are." Jaron leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. "And trust me, I even learned this marriage selection process from them. The Lycans are stronger than us because they follow a laid-down constitution of their ancestors. Their business ethics are splendid, and currently, they rule the mafia."

Ravyn thought through his words, turning them over in his mind like puzzle pieces. "Aren’t you afraid they would one day turn against your pack if things go wrong?"

Jaron’s jaw tightened. "It’s not impossible, but right now, we need them."

Ravyn leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "They must want something in return. So what is it?"

Jaron’s gaze dropped to the desk, his fingers drumming against the polished wood. "I can only tell you if you agree to invest nothing less than fifty million."

Ravyn had fallen from the rank of billionaire, but he still had hundreds of millions tucked away. He readily agreed, his voice steady. "Done. But the returns must be great."

"It is." Jaron’s eyes lit up with greed. "But the problem is, they want complete dominion over the werewolf community. But don’t worry, for as long as we have the crown and are able to activate its power, they won’t dare to attack."

Ravyn nodded slowly, filing away every detail. "Can I meet them?"

"Yes, but I’ll have to talk to them first." Jaron’s expression turned wary. "And don’t get your hopes up. They never allow anyone into their pack. They let me in once, but I had no idea how I got in or got out. They use sorcery that much. But in the human world, they have corporations. Since you are willing to invest, I’ll arrange a meeting in a few days."

Ravyn was glad to follow his instincts. He could tell that King Jaron was threading on hot waters, walking a dangerous line between necessity and annihilation. The Lycans were not to be trifled with, and Jaron seemed blissfully unaware of the tightrope he was walking.

It was midnight before he left King Jaron’s study. The corridors were dimly lit, the pack house settling into the quiet hum of night. And in the shadows, he saw movement—Liah coming out of Corvine’s room with Prince Jasper watching out for her, his gaze scanning the hallway.

Reaching them, Liah pursed her lips and raised her head proudly, her chin lifting with defiance. "I hope you can keep secrets." Her voice was clipped, defensive. "It’s not what you think."

The corner of Ravyn’s lips twitched, a ghost of amusement flickering across his face. "I’m only worried about Corvine getting caught."

Liah’s posture relaxed slightly. "Well, this is also important to him. We are working on something important and can’t be away from each other. With both our phones taken away, this is the only way." She glanced behind her, checking for any sign of her father. "Now if you will excuse me, I need to see my mother before my father joins her in her chamber."

She took two steps, stopped and looked at him again. "And why the haircut and change in dressing? Are you trying to look like Alpha Voren?"

She left as soon as she spilled the question. Ravyn smiled but it was more of a mockery of himself.

Once upon a time, Voren was the one who wanted to look like Ravyn to be close to Seraphine. Now, Ravyn did not know why he was trying to match up to Voren, knowing he’ll never have Seraphine back.

He watched Liah hurry away, her footsteps silent against the marble floor. He could not blame them. These were adults running companies, leading lives of immense responsibility, and yet their phones had to be switched off for a week? He only hoped whatever Corvine and Liah were planning was worth the risk.

***

Corvine was woken by Jaron himself during the early hours of the morning, the Alpha King’s voice sharp and commanding. By Jaron’s side stood Brad, his expression smug and confident. "Co-Alpha Corvine, you and Alpha Brad will train with my warriors."

Jaron’s voice carried a note of finality. "Jasper would step back. And after the training, you two would have the first fight."

"I’ll change into training outfits then." Corvine said politely before closing the door. He returned in less than ten minutes, his movements quick and efficient.

The Silver Moon Pack’s training was held at the pack ground and not the gym—an open expanse of packed earth surrounded by watching eyes. It was clear that King Jaron wanted everyone to watch because he was certain Corvine would lose. He had stacked the deck, chosen the most aggressive warriors, and arranged the crowd to intimidate.

However, during training with his warriors, something unexpected happened. Corvine moved like water, fluid, unstoppable, impossible to pin down. His techniques were flawless, his counters devastating.

The warriors kept muttering among themselves, their admiration growing with each exchange.

"That was incredible," one whispered. "Where did he learn that?"

"I’ve never seen anything like it," another added, shaking his head. "His footwork is perfect."

They all kept saying they learned more moves from Corvine than Brad, and Jaron’s face grew darker with each passing minute.

In the end, Ravyn was the one officiating the fight between the Alpha and Co-Alpha. He stood in the center of the pack ground, his expression grim and unreadable.

Ravyn knew Corvine’s strength. He had trained him for years, had seen him grow from a promising young wolf into a formidable warrior. But when the fight began, all he kept seeing was Voren. Every movement, every strike, every counter, was Voren’s influence, Voren’s teachings, Voren’s brutal efficiency made flesh.

Corvine was a mirror of the Alpha who had trained him.

And though Brad tried his best to avoid any kicks and punches, to dodge and weave and find an opening, he kept being the one getting hit.

Corvine was too fast, his punches merciless, just as he had suffered when training with Voren. His strikes landed with devastating precision, each one delivered with the same cold fury that had broken Killian’s bones.

In less than twenty minutes, which was the second round of the fight, Brad was unconscious on the floor. His body lay crumpled in the dirt, his breathing shallow and labored. And yet, Corvine looked like he was just warming up, his chest rose and fell evenly, his gaze sharp and focused.

"Corvine wins." Ravyn announced with a grim expression, hiding his excitement behind a mask of neutrality. He helped Brad to the pack hospital himself, his movements brisk and professional.

The other Alphas, just as Jaron, were grim. The expressions on their faces were a mixture of shock and anger, their carefully constructed plans crumbling before their eyes. The only excited person was Jasper, whose eyes sparkled with barely contained glee. He clapped Corvine on the shoulder as they left the pack ground, his voice low and proud. "That was magnificent. You made him look like a pup."

The next day, the same procedure was used. This time, it was Curt and Killian. The fight was brutal, a clash of raw power and desperate ambition. Though Killian won, Curt wasn’t injured and still walked by himself, a testament to Killian’s restraint, or perhaps his exhaustion.

On the third day, the announcement came. Allan and Corvine.