BloodMoon: Captivated by the Forbidden Lycan Alpha
Chapter 248: A WELCOMED VISIT

Chapter 248: A WELCOMED VISIT

{"No duty is more urgent than that of returning thanks."}

TOR’S POV

We descended the last jagged slope of Blood Stone Mountain just as the first rays of sunlight caught the crimson-streaked stone. The air was lighter here, though still thick with the magic that had clung to our skins like smoke and sweat. Behind us, the mountain loomed a silent beast we had barely survived.

Rou stalked ahead in silence, his great form tense and alert, like he expected the rocks themselves to rise against us. Freyr trailed behind him, quiet for once, his silver hair dull with soot. Sierra walked beside me, her expression unreadable, but her eyes flickered with something deeper than exhaustion.

Dante muttered, "Feels wrong leaving it standing after what we saw in there."

I did not answer. He was right, but we were not strong enough to bring it down yet.

Then Sierra stopped. Her head tilted slightly, as if she were listening to something we could not hear.

"Do you feel that?" she asked softly.

Rolan looked up from tightening the strap on his blade. "Feel what?"

"The pull. It is not just the mountain letting go of us... something’s calling."

But I already knew what she meant. I could feel it too faint but steady, a rhythm in the earth beneath our boots. Sierra turned toward the eastern ridge, where the trees grew denser, their canopies hiding what lay beyond. "The Mira home is calling to us."

"Us?" Rou grunted, shifting his weight.

She looked at him then, and her eyes burned silver for a heartbeat. "I am sure. It called to all of us."

The wind picked up then, threading through the trees with a sound like a voice. I turned toward the forest, my fingers flexing around the hilt at my side. The mountain may have tested our strength, but whatever lay ahead was testing our purpose.

The forest felt different this time, and we followed the same winding trail, twisting beneath ancient trees whose branches arched overhead like cathedral vaults. The scent of damp earth and something floral lingered in the air, subtle and familiar. My boots found the path easily, though none of us spoke. There was no need. We all knew where we were going.

Freyr walked ahead, his silver hair catching stray beams of sunlight. Qadira flanked him, her expression unreadable, as always. Between them, Sierra moved with the grace of someone not just welcome in these woods but claimed by them.

The hum of old enchantments whispered just beneath the surface of the air. The light bent subtly ahead, revealing the familiar shimmer of the veil, a magical barrier that kept the Mira home hidden from the world. It was not a wall. It was more like a breath held tight between heartbeats. Sierra raised a hand, and the barrier responded immediately. Threads of silver light unravelled, swirling around her fingers like affectionate vines. The mist parted, not just for her but for all of us.

"This time," she said softly, "it opened without hesitation."

We stepped through the veil together, and I felt the same subtle shift as before, warmth rushing to meet us, magic curling around my ribs like smoke and memory. Sierra paused at the threshold of the great door, fingers grazing the wood.

"Our blood made this house," she said. "It does not forget who we are. And it does not call us back without reason."

I looked at her, then at Freyr and Qadira. Their expressions told me what I already sensed, whatever called us this time, it was not just the house.

The air shifted the moment we stepped into the main hall, and Light filtered through the arched ceiling, soft and gold, dust motes drifting like slow snowfall. The great tree in the centre, its pale branches stretching toward the skylight, shimmered faintly, leaves whispering though no wind stirred. The house was quiet, but not silent.

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, ancient, layered, not male or female, but something older than either. Not a sound we heard with our ears alone, but something deeper. A resonance in the marrow.

"Children of Mira, the Guardians of Bay, shifter and Paradise Coven, Guardians of blood and shifter magic, you have returned."

Rou tensed beside me. Qadira’s breath caught in her throat. Even Freyr went still.

"You have walked into shadow and emerged carrying light. You stood where evil rose in blood and fire—and you did not yield. Blood Stone Mountain is safe once more. Its darkness is broken."

Sierra stepped forward slowly, her hand against the heartwood of the tree. Her voice was soft. "You gave us the power to win, and you protected us throughout by giving us a safe haven:"

"Always. I am the echo of the Mira line—the memory of what was born here. I have felt your pain, your triumph, your sacrifice. And now... I am free."

The ground pulsed beneath us, not violently, but rhythmically like the heartbeat of something about to rest.

"My purpose is fulfilled. My guardians have returned, and the balance is mended. It is time for me to go back to the soil, to the roots from which I rose, to rest and rise again when the world will not be at peace.

I looked around the hall. The walls shimmered with veins of light, slowly dimming like stars at dawn. Vines curled inward, drawing toward the foundation. The very magic of the house—its life—was folding in on itself.

Freyr broke the silence. "Are you leaving?"

"No. I am returning. The forest called me once, and I rose to protect it. Now it calls again—and I must go. What was built must return. What was borrowed must be given back."

Tears welled in Sierra’s eyes, but she did not cry. She nodded and bowed. "Then rest," she said. "We will carry what you were. We will remember."

The Mira magic home glowed once more, a soft final flare of light. "Return back to your home, and my roots will sleep. But you... must rise."

The light spread outward like a final breath, warm and full of peace. And then... the walls began to crumble gently, silently, turning to ash and petals and dust that shimmered as it fell. We stood there, watching the only living sanctuary many of them had ever known vanish like morning mist. Then, in seconds, only trees surrounded us, and no one spoke as the trees thinned, and the Mira home was gone. When the forest finally opened, it did so with a kind of finality. The sunlight was brighter here; the wind was clean and untainted by magic. A gentle slope led down into open land rolling green hills crowned in gold, where wild horses ran free and the air shimmered with warmth.

An hour later, we finally reached the borders of Paradise Coven city. Even from this distance, you could see the marble towers gleaming like frost-touched pearls. Elegant bridges arched over rivers that pulsed with enchantment. The scent of lavender and sunfire drifted on the wind. The name was not an exaggeration; this place was paradise, at least on the surface.

At the edge of the forest, an Honor guard awaited. Two dozen mounted royal guards clad in ceremonial black and gold armor, and the captain dismounted first, tall, sharp-eyed, her braid wrapped in golden thread. She stepped forward and bowed low, hand over heart.

"Greetings, Lady Sierra, Freyr Kayne, Elder Dante, and Qadira. "Her voice rang like bells measured, proud. "On behalf of Coven Leader Aurora Jade, I welcome you home. "

Sierra inclined her head with quiet grace. "We came not for glory, but because we were needed."

"And still," the captain replied, straightening, "your deeds lit a beacon across the realms. You stood where others would fall."

Rou leaned in toward me, muttering under his breath, "Did they practice this whole speech or is that just how they talk here?"

"They’re royal guards, Rou," I murmured back.

The captain continued, unbothered. "Coven Leader Aurora Jade awaits you at the Moonstone Citadel."

"Then let’s not make her wait," Freyr said, rolling my shoulders as I stepped forward.

The Bloodstone citadel shimmered like something out of a dream. We crossed the final bridge in silence, the golden stone warm beneath our boots, the air rich with enchantment and the faint hum of a living city. Banners fluttered high above us, catching the light symbols of Paradise Coven rippling like living silk. And waiting atop the broad marble steps was the full weight of Paradise’s power.

At the centre stood Aurora Jade, the interim Lord of the Coven, and beside her stood her mate, Nessa, strong and serene, one hand resting lightly on Aurora’s arm as if anchoring her to the earth. Elder Armon was next, ancient, and steady, a walking monument of knowledge and ritual. Elder Aggrey stood to his right, a storm beneath calm skin, her fingers glowing faintly with runes of welcome.

And behind them, a line of military might, Captain Belisont, all precision and poise. General Gabriel, imposing in golden armor, Commander Brandyn, observant, sharp as flint, Enforcer Echo, masked and unmoving, and Royal Guard Deverell, rigid, silent, ever alert.

As we approached, Aurora stepped forward. The crowd of guards and nobles behind her bowed as one, but she did not move like royalty, and she moved like someone welcoming family.

"Champions of the realm," she said, her voice echoing clear and rich through the courtyard. "I welcome you all to Paradise Coven City.