MATED TO THE BEAST ALPHA BROTHERS
Chapter 26: Poisoned.

Chapter 26: Poisoned.

Haelyn’s feet pounded against the earth, her vision blurred by unshed tears as she sprinted through the dense woods. She couldn’t breathe.

Her chest ached, her wolf howled in agony inside her, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t.

"Archer is dying."

The words rang through her skull, repeating over and over, suffocating her.

She burst through the heavy wooden doors of Cerius’s estate, her breath ragged, her heart racing violently against her ribs.

The moment she entered, Cerius turned.

The Alpha had been standing near the fireplace, arms crossed, deep in thought. But when he saw her, when he saw the raw desperation and panic in her eyes, his entire demeanor shifted.

"Haelyn?" His voice was sharp, laced with alarm.

She stumbled forward, gripping onto his shirt with shaking hands.

"Father... my mate is dying."

Cerius stiffened.

Haelyn’s fingers clenched, her voice cracking with raw emotion. "I just found him... and now he’s leaving me."

Cerius’s golden eyes darkened.

Across the room, Seraphis straightened.

"What’s happened?" The high priestess’s voice was eerily calm, but her piercing gaze was filled with urgency.

Haelyn’s breath hitched as she struggled to explain, her voice barely coherent. "He collapsed. He was coughing up blood, he—he couldn’t breathe. Artemis called for Rowena, but I....I don’t know if she can save him."

Seraphis’s expression turned grave.

Cerius grabbed Haelyn’s shoulders firmly. "Take us to him. Now."

Without hesitation, they moved.

By the time they reached Archer’s estate, the atmosphere was suffocating.

Servants and pack members stood outside the manor, murmuring in worry, their expressions etched with fear.

Inside, the scent of blood and sickness clung to the air.

Haelyn’s stomach churned as she led them through the grand hallways. The closer they got to Archer’s room, the heavier the air felt.

And then, finally, they entered.

Haelyn gasped.

Archer lay on the massive bed, his skin pale as snow, his lips tinged with blue. His once strong, commanding presence had withered into weakness.

Artemis stood near the bedside, his hands clenched into fists, his jaw locked tight with emotion.

Rowena hovered over Archer’s body, chanting softly, her hands glowing as she tried to extract whatever was killing him.

But nothing was working.

Haelyn staggered back, her chest tightening painfully.

"No... No, no, no." She rushed to his side, falling onto her knees. "Archer, wake up. Please."

Archer’s eyes fluttered open slightly.

For the briefest moment, his golden gaze met hers.

Then, his body convulsed violently.

"Help him!" Haelyn screamed.

Seraphis moved swiftly.

The high priestess placed a hand on Archer’s chest, her expression growing even graver as she closed her eyes. A moment later, her eyes snapped open.

"It’s poison."

Everyone froze.

Seraphis’s face was grim, her voice cold. "Deadly, dark, ancient... and dirty."

Haelyn’s breath hitched.

Artemis’s face hardened. "What do you mean?"

Seraphis turned to them. "This is no ordinary poison." She looked at Cerius. "It’s an old technique....one meant to weaken not just the body, but the wolf’s very soul."

Cerius’s expression was unreadable, but his knuckles were white.

Rowena inhaled sharply. "You mean... it’s meant to separate him from his wolf?"

Seraphis nodded. "Slowly. Painfully. Until there’s nothing left of him."

A choked sob escaped Haelyn’s lips.

She turned back to Archer, her fingers trembling as she stroked his hair.

"This can’t be happening," she whispered.

Seraphis exhaled. "We don’t have much time. If we don’t act now...."

She didn’t finish her sentence.

She didn’t need to.

They all knew what it meant.

Archer would die.

Haelyn’s wolf howled in agony.

She gritted her teeth, determination flashing in her eyes.

"Then tell me what to do."

Seraphis met her gaze. "You don’t understand, Haelyn. This poison—it’s connected to something far darker than you realize."

Haelyn’s fists clenched. "I don’t care. Tell me how to save him."

The high priestess hesitated for only a moment.

She wanted to speak.

But she considered the fact that what she said next would change everything. So she called CERIUS aside.

Cerius stood near the window of Archer’s estate, arms crossed, his golden eyes dark with worry. He had seen many things in his lifetime, but this? This was different. Seraphis had called him aside to discuss what would be done next but it worried him, he was scared for both Archer and Haelyn.

Seraphis paced the room, her fingers twitching as if itching to cast a spell, to do something...anything.

"This isn’t just an ordinary poison," Seraphis muttered, breaking the tense silence. "It’s old. Ancient. Whoever did this knew exactly how to weaken him in the worst possible way."

Cerius exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. "And yet, there is a way to cure him."

Seraphis stilled. "No."

Cerius turned to face her, his gaze hard. "Seraphis, you and I both know what must be done."

Seraphis clenched her jaw. "You can’t ask that of her. Not now. Not when she’s pregnant, not when she’s already endured so much!"

Cerius’s eyes flickered with something close to pain. "If we don’t, Archer will die. His wolf will separate from him, and he’ll be gone. There’s no second chance with this poison."

Seraphis shook her head, stepping closer. "And if we do? If we tell her the truth about what it takes to save him?"

Cerius was silent for a long moment. Then he murmured, "It might kill her... and the child."

The weight of the words hung between them like a storm waiting to break.

Seraphis swallowed hard, her voice quieter now. "You love her, Cerius. You may not be able to say it out loud, but I see it. Are you really willing to risk losing her?"

Cerius turned back to the window, his fingers curling into fists. "I don’t know," he admitted, his voice hoarse.

Then the door burst open.

Haelyn stood there, her breathing ragged, her eyes wild with desperation.

"What are you hiding from me?" she demanded, her voice shaking.

Seraphis and Cerius exchanged a look.

And just like that....the decision was no longer theirs to make.

"What the hell did you give me?!"

Lyra’s furious scream echoed through the grand halls of the Beckett mansion as she stormed inside, her heart hammering in her chest.

Layla and Helen were lounging in the sitting room, sipping wine as if they didn’t have a care in the world. But the moment Lyra entered, eyes blazing with rage, Helen set her glass down.

Layla arched a brow, feigning innocence. "Lyra, darling, why the theatrics?"

Lyra’s chest heaved as she stalked toward them, her hands trembling. "You told me it was just to mess with his emotions! That it would make him distant from Haelyn, not..." She swallowed hard. "Not kill him!"

Helen exhaled sharply and leaned back against the couch. "Calm yourself. You’re being dramatic."

"Dramatic?" Lyra’s voice cracked. "He’s coughing up blood! His body is shutting down! If anyone finds out I was involved, do you know what they’ll do to me?"

Layla smirked. "Yes, actually. That’s why we’re telling you to calm down."

Lyra’s fingers twitched. "You lied to me."

Helen shrugged, completely unfazed. "We didn’t lie. We just didn’t tell you everything."

Lyra’s blood ran cold.

She took a step back, her mind racing. "No. No, I’m not taking the fall for this. I’m going to Archer’s estate. I’ll tell them everything before it’s too late."

She turned on her heel, ready to leave....

But a strong hand gripped her arm.

She whirled around, only to meet Layla’s dark, predatory gaze.

"I wouldn’t do that if I were you," Layla whispered, her nails digging into Lyra’s skin.

Lyra yanked herself free, glaring. "Are you threatening me?"

Layla took a slow step forward. "No, darling. I’m giving you a reality check."

Helen smirked, sipping her wine again as if this was all a game to her. "Think about it, Lyra. If you go confess, what proof do you have? Who would believe you?"

Lyra’s breath hitched.

Helen continued, her voice smooth, deceptive. "It would be your word against ours. And who do you think Archer will believe? His concubine who has always been jealous of Haelyn? Or the daughter of a respected family?"

Lyra’s stomach twisted.

Layla leaned in closer, her lips curling into a cruel smirk. "And let’s not forget, if Archer dies... you’ll be the first suspect. Not us."

Lyra’s heart slammed against her ribs.

She felt trapped. Cornered.

Helen gave her a pitying look. "Face it, sweetheart. You’re better off staying silent."

Lyra swallowed hard. Her hands clenched into fists.

She wanted to fight back. She wanted to tell them to go to hell and expose everything.

But the fear clawing at her throat was too strong.

She backed away slowly, her entire body shaking with anger.

"This isn’t over," she hissed before storming out of the room.

The moment Lyra disappeared, a slow clap echoed from the grand staircase.

Helen and Layla turned, their expressions shifting instantly.

Arthur Beckett stood at the top of the stairs, watching them with sharp, calculating eyes.

Layla frowned. "Father?"

Arthur smirked, making his way down, his aura commanding the entire room. "That was quite the show."

Helen sighed. "How much did you hear?"

Arthur ignored the question. Instead, he walked over to the bar cart, pouring himself a drink.

After taking a slow sip, he finally spoke.

"You two just handed me the perfect opportunity."

Layla and Helen exchanged a look.

Arthur turned to them, his eyes glinting. "If Archer is dying, that means Haelyn is vulnerable. She’ll be desperate. She’ll do anything to save him."

Layla’s eyes widened slightly. "You think she’d come to you?"

Arthur chuckled darkly. "Not willingly. But she’ll have no choice."

Helen leaned forward. "What are you planning?"

Arthur set his glass down, his smirk widening.

"We’ll give Haelyn exactly what she wants....hope."

Layla frowned. "I don’t understand."

Arthur’s golden eyes gleamed.

"We’ll make her believe we have the cure."

Helen’s lips parted. "But we don’t...."

Arthur silenced her with a raised hand. "We don’t need a real cure." His smirk deepened. "We just need her to come to us."

Layla’s face lit up with amusement. "And once she does?"

Arthur’s voice turned cold, deadly.

"We take her."

A heavy silence settled over the room.

Then, slowly, Layla smirked.

Helen picked up her glass again, amused.

"Let the games begin."