Chapter 166: Soul exhaustion

Later that night, just a few minutes past midnight, Dorian returned to the mansion.

He walked through the front door alongside Anthony and Jake, looking completely exhausted, his eyes bloodshot. He took one slow look around the living room and breathed in the air.

Alyssa, he thought. She had been here a moment ago. Her scent still lingered everywhere.

He slowly turned around to face Anthony and Jake, who looked equally drained.

"Tomorrow, the search continues," he said, his voice low and raspy. "Deeper into the forest, where we haven’t covered yet. We must find the hideout of these soulless rogues before something terrible happens."

"Yes, Alpha," Jake nodded firmly. "I will mobilize the men first thing in the morning..."

"No, not you," Dorian shook his head, turning to Anthony. "I need you to lead the search, Anthony. Jake has a mate now, and I refuse to keep him away from her for hours on end. I know how difficult that is. He will join the search, but he’ll return early to be with her."

Jake’s expression softened with unspoken gratitude, while Anthony gave a resolute nod.

"I’ll handle it," Anthony said. "The trackers spotted a few uncharted trails down in the western forest. We can begin there at dawn."

"Thank you, Anthony," Jake murmured.

Anthony clapped him on the back before pulling away. "Right now, what we all need is rest after today’s ordeal. Especially you, Dorian. You look like hell."

"I’ll be fine," Dorian muttered. "Shadow just needs time to recover."

"I still don’t understand how we didn’t find the rogues," Jake pondered, his brows furrowing. "As vicious and cunning as those creatures are, they always leave a trail. The fact that they didn’t leave a single trace behind means something."

Dorian opened his mouth to reply, but on second thought, he held back and remained silent. However, Anthony caught the subtle hesitation instantly.

"What is it?" he asked. "You have something on your mind, don’t you?"

"It’s just a speculation," Dorian admitted quietly. "But I think this is Ragnar’s doing."

Anthony and Jake exchanged guarded looks. They turned back to Dorian, and Anthony took a step forward.

"The Rogue King?" he questioned. "Didn’t rumors say he was dead?"

"No one actually confirmed those rumors," Dorian answered. "After we defeated the Onyx and pushed back the rogues, he escaped and vanished off the face of the earth. But I think he’s back, and he’s controlling them."

An uncomfortable silence stretched through the living room until Jake finally broke it. "If Ragnar is truly back, it means he’s planning an assault. And after the last war, it won’t be anything small."

"I guess we’ll find out soon enough," Dorian muttered. "For now, keep a sharp eye out for the slightest threat around the borders. I want him captured the moment he shows his face. If we have him, we gain control over the rogues."

"Yes, Alpha," Jake and Anthony answered in unison.

"One more thing," Dorian added. "Any news regarding Pilate?"

"The trackers found no trace of him," Jake reported. "He seems to have vanished into thin air as well, but they are keeping a close watch on that small enclave of shapeshifters on the far side of the realm."

​"Good," Dorian nodded curtly. "Have them maintain the watch. Nina still hasn’t found a way to repel their presence, so everyone must remain vigilant."

"Yes, Alpha."

Turning away, Dorian made his way up the stairs toward the bedroom. He knew Alyssa would likely be fast asleep given how late it was.

He missed her terribly. He hadn’t been there to see her after her examination today, but he intended to make it up to her.

He carefully pushed the door open and stepped quietly inside the room. The lights were off, leaving the room bathed in the soft, silvery glow of the half-moon filtering through the curtains.

He closed the door silently behind him and walked across the room, his footsteps completely noiseless. Halfway to the bed, a faint rustling sound broke the silence, followed by Alyssa’s soft voice.

"Dorian?"

Realizing she was awake, Dorian moved to the bedside and switched on the nightstand lamp. A warm glow illuminated the dark, and his tired eyes met hers.

"You’re back," she whispered, raising her arms up to him. The thin straps of her satin nightgown slipped off her shoulders as she reached for him.

Dorian leaned down, drawing her warmly into his arms to press a kiss into her hair, then on her lips. "Did I wake you?" he asked gently.

She shook her head, slowly rubbing her eyes. "You didn’t. I was just drifting off when you came in. I only left the living room a little while ago because I was waiting for you."

She pulled back slightly to look into his face, a small frown marring her brow.

"Are you okay? You look exhausted."

Dorian offered a faint smile, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. "I’ll be fine. Go back to sleep."

"No," she shook her head again. "I don’t want to sleep. What happened out there? Why did you stay out so late?"

She reached up to touch his face, her worry mounting as she noticed the way he kept blinking rapidly, as if struggling to keep her in focus.

"Dorian, talk to me. What’s wrong?"

Dorian closed his eyes and gave his head a short shake, trying to clear the fog in his mind. When he opened them, he forced another small smile.

"Shadow is completely drained, and it’s taking a toll on me."

Alyssa’s expression shifted into deep concern. "Is it dangerous? Should I call Nina?"

"No, and no," Dorian assured her quickly. "I just need a cold shower and some rest, that’s all. I pushed him way past his limits today while we were hunting down the rogues."

"Do you need help getting into the bathroom?"

Dorian’s smile softened at her worried features. "No, my love. Just wait right here for me. I won’t be long."

She hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Okay."

He pulled away and stood up. His steps were unsteady, a slight stagger in his stride as he moved toward the bathroom. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it onto a chair, then grabbed hold of the bathroom doorknob.

Suddenly, his knees buckled, and he nearly collapsed to the floor.

"DORIAN!" Alyssa cried out, throwing off the covers and sprinting to his side. She reached down, trying to pull him up, but it was like trying to lift a solid stone wall.

Dorian slowly forced himself upright, his breathing harsh, and gently held her arms.

"I’m fine," he grunted.

"No, you’re not! We need to get Nina, or Anthony! Something is definitely wrong!"

"I’m fine, my love," Dorian insisted softly. He cupped her cheeks in his hands, looking down at her with a reassuring smile. "I promise, I’m fine. A cold shower is all I need. After that, Shadow will settle, and I’ll feel better."

Alyssa stared at him, her heart pounding with fear. She didn’t believe him, and she had never seen him like this; never seen him look so weak, so vulnerable. He looked as if the slightest touch could knock him over.

"Let me at least go down and get you something to eat," she offered desperately. "I know you haven’t eaten since you left. Maybe that’s why Shadow is collapsing."

Dorian knew that wasn’t the cause. Shadow rarely ever weakened from simple hunger. Neither did Soren. Both of his inner beasts could endure weeks without food and remain lethal.

No, this wasn’t hunger. It was physical and soul exhaustion. He had been on his feet for hours; from the moment he left the mansion at dawn until midnight, running, tracking, and hunting without pause in his Lycan form.

Even when the other Lycan guards had stopped to rest, he had pressed on. He needed to know why the rogues had returned. He had to ensure they posed no threat to Alyssa, like they had back in Ashgard.

But he kept that from her. There was no point in terrifying her further. So he simply nodded.

"I guess you’re right," he murmured softly. "I really am starving."

Alyssa let out a small breath of relief and nodded. "Okay. Just take your shower. By the time you’re finished, I’ll be back."

Dorian leaned down and kissed her forehead, then pressed a sweet kiss to her lips to soothe her anxiety. "I’ll be waiting."

Alyssa waited, watching nervously as he staggered into the bathroom and pulled the door shut behind him. Once he was inside, she hurried out of the bedroom.

The mansion was deathly silent at this hour. Not wanting to disturb the maids and servants, she headed straight for the kitchen to heat up the leftover steak and pasta from dinner.

She moved as quietly as possible, her movements frantic yet delicate. All traces of the drowsiness she had felt earlier had completely vanished, replaced by an overwhelming wave of anxiety for Dorian.

Once the food was hot, she arranged the plates onto a bronze tray, covered them, and hurried back up the stairs.

Reaching their bedroom, she could hear the hum of the shower running inside the bathroom. She walked over to the vanity to set the tray down when a sudden sound cut through the air–a dull, heavy thud that caused a faint vibration.

She froze. Dropping the tray onto the table, she sprinted to the bathroom door and threw it wide open, calling out Dorian’s name.

The sight she saw made the air cease in her throat.

Dorian was lying motionless on the cold marble floor beside the shower stall, still wearing his trousers. A dark pool of blood was slowly spreading beneath his head where it had struck the sink during his fall.

He was unconscious.