*NEW* Chapter XXXIX

Derek's POV

The moment I saw Lydia, a fire ignited in my veins. She was bruised, exhausted—but alive. And standing between us was Lars, his smug expression dripping with arrogance.

"You're too late," Lars sneered, cracking his knuckles. "She was never meant to be yours."

I barely heard him. My wolf surged forward, and I let him take over.

We collided like a clash of titans, teeth snapping, claws ripping through flesh. The taste of blood filled my mouth, but I didn't stop. He took her. He would pay.

Lars was strong, his years of leadership evident in every brutal strike. But I was faster, fueled by something far greater than strength—rage. His pack was losing. His empire crumbling. And he knew it.

"You think you're a king?" he spat, wiping blood from his mouth. "She will always be your weakness."

I drove my fist into his ribs, sending him sprawling. "She's my reason to fight. That's the difference."

Lars staggered to his feet, but I didn't give him the chance to recover. With one final, merciless strike, I ended it.

The battlefield fell silent. His pack—leaderless, broken—submitted.

But the fight wasn't over. Not yet.

A crack of energy snapped through the air. I turned just in time to see Arabella rise from the ground, dark magic swirling around her like a storm.

"This isn't over," she hissed. And then she attacked.

Lydia's POV

The moment Arabella's magic lashed out, I felt it—raw, chaotic energy flooding the space. She was weakened, but still dangerous. Her gaze locked onto me, fury twisting her features.

"You were never supposed to have it!" she shrieked. "It belongs to me!"

I should have been terrified. I should have been powerless. But instead, something inside me stirred. A pull, like a current deep in my core.

Arabella hurled a bolt of dark energy straight at me. I flinched—but it never hit. The energy disintegrated midair, siphoned away before it could reach me.

Arabella's eyes widened in horror. "No... no, that's impossible."

But I knew.

The power she craved wasn't just locked inside me. It was mine.

And I wasn't afraid anymore.

I stepped forward, my movements slow and deliberate, my eyes locked onto hers. Arabella raised her hand, trying to summon another attack, but nothing came. Her magic—it was fading.

Panic flashed across her face as I reached her. She stumbled back, but I grabbed her wrist, just as I had before, my grip tightening like iron. I could feel her energy, the dark, twisted magic she had stolen, draining from her and into me.

She screamed, thrashing in my grasp. "Stop! No! You don't know what you're doing!"

But I did. I was taking back what was never hers.

Arabella's body trembled violently as she grew weaker, her struggles turning frantic. Then, with a wild cry, she yanked a dagger from her belt—the very same blade she had used in her ritual. With the last of her strength, she lunged at me, aiming for my heart.

A blur of fur slammed into her before the blade could touch me.

Arabella's body hit the ground with a sickening thud, her lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling. Blood pooled beneath her, her dagger slipping from her fingers.

I turned my gaze to the wolf that had saved me.

Derek stood over her, his chest heaving, his eyes locked on me with something raw, something unbreakable.

It was over.

Derek's POV

I walked into the council chamber, battered and bloodied, my presence alone enough to silence the murmuring elders. They had been deep in discussion, debating whether they should interfere to help me retrieve my mate or wash their hands of the matter because it involved a witch.

I was absolutely appalled.

"You were still debating?" I asked, my voice low, dangerous. "While I was out there fighting for the fate of your world, you were in here arguing over technicalities?"

One of the elders cleared his throat. "Derek, you must understand—there is no longer an alliance between wolves and witches. This—"

"This?" I cut him off, stepping forward. "This was not about politics. This was about a madwoman nearly wielding a power that would have ended us all. And you did nothing."

Another elder frowned. "And what happened to Alpha Lars?"

"He's dead." My voice was steady, unapologetic.

Murmurs erupted. "You killed him? That was not your judgment to make!"

I laughed bitterly. "Not my judgment? He kidnapped my mate. He aligned himself with a witch who was seconds away from unleashing chaos upon this world. If I hadn't stopped him, who would have? You?" I let the silence hang. "No. You were too busy debating."

I took a step closer, my eyes burning into theirs. "If it wasn't for Crescendo Moon, you'd all be facing another apocalypse. Arabella would have stripped Lydia of her power and turned it against all of us—witches and wolves alike. Fate ensured that power was placed where it could be protected, and you almost let it fall into the wrong hands."

I let my words settle before delivering the final blow. "Tell me, will you take responsibility for that? You chose me as king, yet you still doubt my judgment."

Silence. Then, finally, one of the elders bowed his head. "We were wrong," he admitted. "You were right to act. We should have done more."

Another elder spoke, his voice resolute. "And we still need a king."

I exhaled, my jaw tightening. "Then it's time you start trusting him."