The Play-Toy Of Three Lycan Kings-Chapter 381: In The Caves II

ADAM

She was powerful.

The thought struck me with the weight of inevitability, settling deep in my chest as I watched Sage stand there, her brow drawn tight after the priest’s words.

The faint rumble of the waters had not yet stilled. It lingered, vibrating through the chamber like an aftershock, as if the cave itself was reluctant to forget her presence.

Powerful wasn’t even the right word. She had made the waters move.

My fingers curled slowly at my sides. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Not without a trial. Not without a child stepping forward to be measured by fate and blood and bone. And yet the pool had stirred the moment she crossed the threshold, answering her like an old friend—or a subject recognizing its sovereign.

Just like Dora.

The memory rose unbidden, sharp and unwelcome. Six years ago, this same chamber. The same low hum.

My wolf stirred. I told you. She is one and the same.

"No," I thought back immediately, almost violently. "That’s not possible."

It couldn’t be. Dora was gone. Dead, if the reports were to be believed. Vanished, if one was inclined toward kinder lies. And even if she weren’t—why would she be here?

Why hide behind another face, another name? Why step into my territory, into my life, and pretend to be someone else entirely?

What did she want?

The questions crowded my mind, pressing against my skull until I felt the beginnings of a headache. I forced myself to breathe, slow and steady, and shoved the thought aside. Obsession wouldn’t serve me here. Not yet.

I looked at Sage again, really looked at her—not the frown, not the sharp set of her jaw, but the way the air around her seemed subtly wrong. Charged. As if magic bent, just slightly, to accommodate her presence.

It reminded me of someone else, I realized. Someone, apart from Dora, who had made the waters move.

My mother.

My mother, the true queen of the witch community. Not by title alone, but by blood and power and something older that had answered to her without question.

She’d been born into rulership, molded by it, yet she’d walked away without regret—left her sister to sit the throne while she chose my father and the Lycan territory instead.

She had ruled beside him, fierce and brilliant, and still returned regularly to the witches to keep watch, to ensure balance. It was why her death had never made sense to me. Not with the healing powers she possessed. Not with the near-eternity woven into her bones.

Her death was still a mystery. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

The ache flared sharp and sudden, and I clenched my jaw, forcing it back down. This wasn’t the time.

If Sage could do this...what did that make her?

A queen?

And if so—of where?

She moved then, gliding from the chamber like a current slipping past stone. There was something hypnotic about the way she walked, unhurried but purposeful, her presence tugging at the magic in the cave.

A siren, my wolf supplied, with a note of satisfaction.

I followed without thinking.

The air shifted with every step she took, the goddess’ influence stirring like a breath across my skin. It felt like acknowledgment. Branding. As though Sage was being marked by forces far older than either of us.

My curiosity sharpened into something closer to hunger.

Who are you? I wanted to ask her. Why you?

And beneath that question lay another, more dangerous one—why had the goddess chosen her for me?

My heart began to race, a steady, traitorous drumbeat in my chest. I reached for the priest’s mind, the familiar thread of our connection snapping into place.

Find out who she is, I ordered silently. Use everything. Records. Magic. Whatever it takes.

A pause. Then assent, cautious but firm.

I severed the link.

Sage had already entered the next chamber by the time I caught up to her. This one was quieter, older somehow. The walls were carved with stories instead of symbols—wolves and witches intertwined, battles etched in stone, alliances forged and broken long before my time.

I lifted a hand behind me, halting the priest and the doctor.

"Give us a moment," I said aloud.

They hesitated. Then nodded, retreating without question.

The silence that followed was heavy, intimate. I stepped closer, aware of the way the magic hummed between us now, taut as a drawn wire.

"These carvings," I began, the words coming automatically, filling the space before my thoughts could betray me. "They’re the history of the pack. Our origins. The pacts we made with the witches when this land was still wild."

Sage didn’t look at me. Her gaze traced the stone, fingers hovering just short of touching it. She looked...absorbed. Focused. Dangerous in her stillness.

"They were made to remind us," I continued, my voice quieter now, "that power doesn’t belong to one alone. That it’s shared. Balanced."

She licked her lower lip then, a small, unconscious gesture, and bit down lightly as if deep in thought.

And something inside me snapped.

The restraint I’d been clinging to fractured, splintering under the weight of everything I hadn’t allowed myself to feel. The questions. The pull. The maddening familiarity of her presence.

Before I could stop myself, I reached out.

My hand closed around her arm, pulling her back against me. She gasped—not in fear, but surprise—and then my mouth was on hers.

The kiss was nothing like I’d imagined, after a few hesitant seconds.

It was deeper. Hungrier. As if we were both starving and had only just realized it. Her lips parted beneath mine with a soft sound that went straight to my spine, and I tightened my grip, one hand sliding to her waist as though I needed to anchor myself to something real.

Magic flared.

Not violently, but insistently, wrapping around us like a living thing. I felt it surge through me, through her, answering a call I hadn’t known I was making.

Gods help me.