Chapter 129

Chapter 129: Chapter 129

The candle on the desk had burned down to a thick, stagnant pool of wax, the pale flame sputtering in the damp draft leaking through the window.

I leaned back in the chair, my shoulders stiff. The room smelled of wet stone and old paper, a miserable, forgotten house hidden deep in the craggy hills of the town.

It didn’t exist on any map, buried beneath centuries of overgrown briars and silence.

It was pathetic really, I was a forgotten memory for some people.

My fingers brushed against a stack of newly delivered photographs on the table.

I didn’t even need to pick them up to know what was on them. I had already memorized every single detail.

The top photograph showed a sprawling modern estate built directly into the face of a granite cliff. Floor-to-ceiling glass walls. Dark slate. Custom teak wood. It was tucked away in a private valley, surrounded by dense pine forests.

He had bought it for him.

A private sanctuary built specifically to isolate a fragile, golden-haired hybrid from the rest of the world.

My knuckles turned white against the edge of the desk as I reached for the next photograph.

This one was shot through a high-powered lens from the edge of the northern tree line. Drake stood inside the high-ceilinged room, his broad shoulders outlined against the warm interior lights. His posture was relaxed and in his arms was the boy.

His cock was buried deep inside the boy’s ass and the boy’s head was thrown back in throes of passion. His eyes were closed and his mouth opened in a silent scream.

My fists clenched, I squinted my eyes at the place their bodies connected.

I stared at the image until the edges blurred.

They are fucking and Drake treats him like he is made of glass.

Is the almighty Drake in love with this fragile twink? Am I too late?

A sharp sting flared across my palm. The glass lens under my hand had shattered beneath the sudden pressure of my grip, a thin line of blood welling up across my palm.

I simply watched a single droplet fall onto the photograph, smearing over the boy’s smiling face.

Centuries.

Centuries of lying low in the dark. Centuries of letting the world, letting him believe that the dirt had swallowed me whole.

I had watched my name fade into a tragic footnote, a silent ghost spoken of only in whispered toasts by the old lords.

He had buried me in his mind. He had locked my memory away, building grand stone monuments in my honor while he carried on living without me.

I had accepted the distance. I had accepted the rotting wood of this hidden house, believing he was trapped in the same hollow, immortal grief that was slowly eating away at my soul.

Until the rumors reached me where I was.

I thought with my absence, Drake would forever wallow in his grief but he was too busy chasing that little boy. A boy who spent his days shoving things up his ass for likes.

A remarkable whore indeed.

Is that what Drake liked now? Was that little twink better than me?

I was the one who sacrificed more, I gave up my life for love and in the end, I was forgotten.

I gritted my teeth and clenched my fist harder around the broken lens. I was royally pissed off now.

He was just a replacement. A bright toy meant to fill the quiet, hollow spaces left behind by me.

But why doesn’t it feel like that?

Why does it feel like he found a better person? No, I can’t take that.

"You’re bleeding on the intelligence, my lord."

A low, dry voice drifted from the darkened doorway leading to the courtyard.

I didn’t turn around, simply wiping my palm against my trousers. "The security on the perimeter. How close did you get?"

A tall figure stepped out of the shadows, shaking the rain from his heavy cloak. He tossed his gloves onto the desk, his sharp eyes scanning the messy floorboards.

"Close enough to test the wards," the man replied smoothly. "The blood magic Drake laid around that estate is heavy. Keyed directly to his own essence. A mouse couldn’t cross the tree line without him feeling it."

"And yet you stood there," I said, my voice dropping into an icy rasp.

"I did," he admitted, leaning over the desk. "The boy is jumpy. He felt something. Twice tonight, he looked directly out toward the trees."

A bitter smile tugged at my lips. "The hybrid blood is deep in his bloodstream. His instincts are sharp, even if his mind is soft."

"He thinks he’s seeing ghosts," the man purred. "He stands at those massive glass windows, staring into the fog, convincing himself that his own mind is playing tricks on him."

"Good," I whispered. "Let him question his sanity. I want him terrified before I ever step out of the dark."

The man straightened up with a low breath. "You’re playing a dangerous game. If Drake realizes who has been pulling the threads from the here... he will burn these hills to ash."

I looked up, my eyes narrowing in the gloom.

"Let him try," I rasped. "He thinks I am a ghost of his past. He has moved on. He has taken a delicate little mate to warm his bed."

"True, my lord. But he is no match for you. You can easily crush his new mate with your bare hands."

I stood up, stepping toward the narrow window and pressing my palm against the cold glass.

"He thinks he knows what loss feels like," I murmured, watching the pitch-black night. "He has no idea. I am going to tear his soft little world apart, piece by piece. And when the hybrid is broken... Drake will realize the only thing left for him is the ghost he left behind."

The man in the doorway smirked. "And what about the one we discussed?"

"Bring him to me," I commanded softly. "If the hybrid wants to see a ghost... let’s give him a real one."