Chapter 105: The Seal Placed On Her

Chapter 105: Chapter 105: The Seal Placed On Her

The tiled corridor stretching away from the Conclave was silent save for the rhythmic, heavy echo of bespoke leather soles striking polished stone. Alexander walked at a measured pace, his charcoal suit jacket unbuttoned just enough to grant fluid movement.

Oliver and Derrick kept stride at his flanks, their expressions grim under the warm, understated glow of modern sconces built into the medieval archways.

"Gerald is no longer making any effort to conceal his greed," Derrick remarked quietly, adjusting his cuffs. The tech billionaire’s sharp profile was taut with disdain. "The greed was practically burning through his skin back there. He was transparently attempting to leverage your situation to force your hand—hoping you’d deploy our intelligence assets to hunt down Nelma’s bloodline so he could intercept them."

Alexander let out a dry, low scoff, his gaze fixed straight ahead as they navigated the ascending stairwell toward the upper estate.

"I am well aware, Derrick. I have walked this earth for three thousand years; there is very little in the way of ambition that manages to surprise me anymore. In every century, there is always an Alpha like Gerald—a man who believes his intelligence exceeds his lifespan, convinced he can somehow break the tether of the progenitor line and seize what was never meant for him. They search for Nelma’s descendants, they construct dark rituals, and ultimately, they end up buried six feet in the dirt. Gerald will prove no different from those who came before him."

"With respect, sir..." Oliver began, his voice laced with a deep, hesitating caution as he fell in beside his king. He hesitated for a beat before continuing, his brow furrowed in genuine concern.

"We all recognize Gerald’s arrogance, but his underlying premise wasn’t entirely wrong. Her mortality... it really is a ticking time bomb for you. The world moves on, sir, Werewolves age at a fraction of a human’s pace—look at Gerald. The man is well over a century old, yet he easily passes for fifty in the corporate boardrooms. And you are immortal. What happens at twenty, thirty years from now when her youth begins to fade? What happens when her body simply gives out to time? Can you truly bear the weight of watching her grow old while you remain unchanged?"

Alexander abruptly halted in the center of the long corridor. The air around them seemed to pause with him. He drew in a slow, deep breath, turning around to face his Beta of this generation. A subtle, almost imperceptible warmth softened the hard edges of his face.

"She is not going to die of old age, Oliver," Alexander said softly. "She is one of us."

Oliver blinked, his sharp eyes widening in sheer bafflement. "What do you mean, she’s one of us? Sir... every scan, every record, every scent profile indicates she is entirely human."

"The night I marked her in my penthouse—the moment my teeth pierced her skin and our bloodlines connected," Alexander explained, his voice dropping into a reflective, quiet register as his mind traveled back two weeks, "I felt something deep within her frame. It was faint, buried beneath layers of ordinary mortal biology... but it was indisputably there. Like a seal. An ancient, intricate binding placed directly over her core."

Derrick caught his breath, stepping closer as his shock mirrored Oliver’s. "A seal? What kind of seal could possibly obscure a supernatural aura from our senses for twenty-two years?"

"I don’t know the exact nature of the magic yet," Alexander admitted, his blue eyes narrowing with intense contemplation. "But ever since the mark settled into her flesh and bound my life force to hers, I can feel that dormant power stirring beneath the surface. The seal is weakening. It is fracturing under the pressure of the Lycan bond. Whatever was locked away inside her is trying to break free. We don’t know what will emerge once that barrier shatters... but one thing is absolute, Derrick: Iris Carter was never an ordinary human."

Derrick exchanged a glance with Oliver. "Can you break it?"

Alexander’s eyes sharpened. "No." The answer came immediately. "And I’m not going to try. A seal exists for a reason. Whoever placed it there wanted something contained. Until I understand what that something is, I won’t be reckless enough to tear open a door simply because I want to know what’s behind it."

The corridor lapsed into a heavy, contemplative silence. The two men digested the monumental revelation, their minds racing through the endless tactical implications.

"If there truly is a binding seal suppressing her nature," Oliver voiced slowly, locking eyes with Alexander and then Derrick, "then her parents must know something about it. A spell of that magnitude doesn’t just happen by accident. Whoever raised her had to be aware of what she was—and why she needed to be hidden in the first place."

Alexander gave a single, firm nod of agreement. "Precisely. The same thought crossed my mind the moment I realized what was happening beneath her skin. Her parents hold the key to understanding that seal."

"Except there’s a flaw in that theory," Derrick interjected, raising a hand as he recalled the background dossiers his security team had assembled. "Our preliminary background checks on her family in Spokane were exhaustive. Both of her parents—her father and her mother—are verified humans with zero supernatural signatures or ancestral connections to any known coven or pack. If she is supernatural, could she be adopted?"

"That is a very real possibility," Oliver agreed, thoughtfully touching his chin. "If she was adopted as an infant, her adoptive parents might be completely oblivious to the seal. They might have simply raised her thinking she was an ordinary human child, entirely unaware of the storm dormant inside her."

Alexander turned to his Gamma, his expression hardening into absolute command. "Derrick... initiate a covert, high-priority investigation immediately. Obtain DNA samples from Iris and both of her parents without drawing the slightest attention from local packs or human authorities. Before I confront her or draw conclusions about her heritage, I need absolute confirmation as to whether they share her blood."

"It will be done by tomorrow evening, sir," Derrick responded without hesitation, inclining his head.

Alexander took a steady breath, turning on his heel to complete the walk down the residential wing toward his private master suite. He reached the massive, carved mahogany doors, pushing them open smoothly.

He stepped across the threshold, expecting the subtle, intoxicating scent of vanilla and rain that belonged entirely to her. But the vast, dimly lit room was completely empty. The bed sheets remained smooth and untouched.

A low, resonant growl rumbled deep in Alexander’s chest, vibrating through the quiet room. Then he caught himself, remembering her quiet request from earlier—how she had needed time to process everything, how she had asked to stay near her friend.

Suppressing the territorial instinct to track her down like a predator, he turned on his heel and walked briskly down the corridor toward the guest wing assigned to Zoey.

He stopped just outside the heavy oak door of the guest suite. Pausing in the quiet hallway, his heightened senses focused inward. Beyond the wood, he could hear the synchronized, soft rhythm of two steady heartbeats and the gentle, slow breath of deep sleep.

He turned the handle with effortless delicacy, pushing the door open without making a single sound.

The soft moonlight filtering through the sheer lace curtains illuminated the bedroom. On the massive plush bed, Iris and Zoey were curled up together under the heavy duvet, fast asleep. Zoey’s arm was thrown defensively over Iris’s waist, while Iris rested her head near her friend’s shoulder, exhausted from the emotional turmoil of the day.

Alexander stood at the edge of the bed for a long moment, his gaze lingering on the gentle rise and fall of Iris’s chest. The sight of her peaceful face melted the remaining tension from his shoulders.

Moving with the silent, fluid grace inherent to his apex nature, Alexander stepped up to the side of the mattress. He leaned down, carefully sliding one large arm beneath her knees and resting his other behind her back, taking extreme care not to disturb her friend and wake them both.

As he gently lifted Iris from the mattress, Zoey stirred. Feeling the sudden shift in weight, Zoey gasped softly, her eyes flying open as she instinctively reached out into the dim light.

She blinked rapidly, her heart rate spiking as she found herself staring up into the towering, imposing figure of the Lycan king standing right beside the bed. Zoey’s breath hitched in her throat, her eyes darting nervously between Alexander’s stern, unreadable face and Iris, who remained sound asleep in his arms, her head resting naturally against his chest.

Alexander did not say a word. He simply held Zoey’s gaze for a second, his deep blue eyes carrying a quiet, undeniable authority that silently instructed her to remain calm. He gave her a tiny, barely perceptible nod of reassurance.

Zoey swallowed hard, slowly pulling her hand back and curling back into the pillows, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Without making a sound, Alexander turned and carried his mate out of the room, cradling her securely against his body as he closed the door behind them with his foot, carrying her back to where she belonged.