The Lunar Crest Academy: Marked by The Lycans
Chapter 129: Vanished

Chapter 129: Chapter 129: Vanished

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The dungeon smelled of damp stone, old blood, and wolfsbane. The torchlight flickered against the iron walls, casting long, warped shadows of the two boys chained to poles in the center of the room. Adrian Vale and Alistair Ashthorne were both stripped to the waist, their bodies battered, bruised, and slick with sweat. The air was thick with silence and suffering. _{f.r(e)e\webn.ovel.co\m}

Adrian’s chest heaved as he struggled to stay upright. His wrists were raw from the silver bindings, and every breath scorched his lungs. Across from him, Alistair’s head was bowed low, his face barely visible beneath the curtain of blood-matted hair.

Magnus Thorn stood before them, cold and unrelenting, a canister of liquefied wolfsbane in one hand. Behind him, leaning calmly against the wall, Astrid Voss watched with unreadable eyes, her arms crossed as if she were merely observing a science experiment.

"You know what I hate?" Magnus began, stepping toward them with a slow, ominous grace. "Liars."

He turned first to Adrian. "So I’ll ask you again, Vale. Are you a member of the Crimson Hunt?"

"No," Adrian gasped. "I told you... I’ve never been part of that madness."

Magnus tilted his head and sprayed a sharp burst of wolfsbane directly across Adrian’s exposed chest. Adrian screamed, his back arching as his skin hissed and sizzled under the toxin. He shook violently, biting back more screams.

Astrid stepped forward, her heels clicking. "You screamed the Ghosthound’s name before being taken," she said softly. "You think that’s a coincidence? We don’t."

"I told you already, I read about it... in a book..." Adrian groaned. "A restricted one... I wanted to find them... because they’re powerful. I thought... maybe they could help us survive this hell."

"And you expect us to believe that?" Magnus asked, stepping toward him again.

"I don’t care what you believe," Adrian muttered through clenched teeth. "It’s the truth."

There was a beat of silence.

Then Magnus turned to Alistair. "And you. Anything else to say, Ashthorne? This whole mess started because of the knife in your locker. You still claim Adrian is your accomplice?"

Alistair didn’t answer.

He had endured more than Adrian, his body was crisscrossed with deep lashes from a silver-laced whip, and his breathing was shallow and ragged. Magnus sprayed him again, this time right in the face.

Alistair convulsed, letting out a raw, guttural sound.

And then, he laughed.

A low, broken, bitter laugh.

"You want the truth?" he rasped, finally raising his head.

Both Magnus and Astrid tensed.

Alistair looked directly at them, his swollen lips curled in something like a smile. "Adrian Vale.... is innocent."

Adrian’s head snapped up in shock.

"I lied," Alistair continued, his voice hollow. "He has nothing to do with the Crimson Hunt. Not a damn thing."

"Then who does?" Magnus growled.

Alistair laughed again, but there was no humor in it, only defiance.

"Me," he said. "It’s me. I’m the one you’re looking for. The Crimson Hunt in the academy? I lead it."

Astrid’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t speak. Magnus stepped forward, grabbing Alistair by the throat.

"You’re bluffing."

Alistair choked out a laugh. "You think I’d endure all this just to protect some lie? I’m the one you want. Now let the innocent one go."

Magnus tightened his grip as he stared dagggers at Alistair, then he slowly let go.

"You better hope you’re not playing us," he snarled. "Because if you are, you’ll wish we left you to die in that dorm."

Alistair said nothing more. His head dropped back down, but there was a strange flicker of satisfaction in his broken expression.

Astrid stepped away from the wall, her boots clicking slowly across the dungeon floor. Her arms were no longer crossed, but at her sides, fingers curled tightly in thought as she approached Alistair Ashthorne, who now hung limp from the silver chains, the scent of his burned skin heavy in the air. Despite everything, there was still something smug in the way he tilted his bruised face, like a man playing a much bigger game than anyone else realized.

Astrid stopped a few inches from him, her cold, calculating gaze sweeping over every line of pain etched into his face.

"I don’t trust you," she said, her voice low and sharp. "Not one bit."

Alistair didn’t flinch. He barely moved

Astrid turned her head slightly, her eyes flicking to Adrian, who had slumped forward, still bound, but watching everything through narrowed, distrustful eyes. There was no defiance left in his posture, just exhaustion and confusion.

"But he is not like you," Astrid said, still looking at Alistair. "You pretend to be unbothered, untouchable, like you were born into this chaos. But Adrian.... Adrian was just a fool." She turned toward Magnus now, who stood brooding in silence. "A fool who cared about the wrong people and got caught in the wrong war."

Magnus grunted, folding his arms. "We don’t make decisions based on sentiment."

"Good thing I’m not sentimental," Astrid replied coolly. "But let’s be honest, Magnus. If Adrian Vale was really Crimson Hunt, do you think he would have stuck to the ferals like even putting his life on the line to defend them? He is just a stupid boy that has foolishly fallen in love with Lorraine Anderson"

Magnus’s jaw tightened. He didn’t respond.

"I’ve been watching Adrian Vale since the beginning of the term. He’s not like the rest of them. He’s clever, a bit arrogant, but he never once hesitated to stand beside Lorraine Anderson or her feral friends, even when it made him a target. That’s not something the Crimson Hunt does. They don’t stand by ferals. They exploit them. Kill them."

Magnus gave her a long, hard look. "You believe him."

"I believe he’s not one of them," Astrid answered simply. "And I believe keeping him locked up will only get in our way."

Magnus was silent again, his expression unreadable. But the silence stretched. Until, at last, he exhaled sharply and barked an order to the guards.

"Release him."

The guards hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward. Silver chains clinked and fell away from Adrian’s wrists and ankles. He slumped down, his legs nearly giving out beneath him. A guard caught him just before he collapsed, but Adrian brushed him off with a trembling hand.

Astrid stepped closer.

"You should thank Alistair," she said dryly. "You were ready to let us burn you alive."

Adrian looked up, his lip cracked, his hair soaked in sweat. "I didn’t have anything to confess."

"Get him cleaned up," Astrid told the guards. "Patch him up, give him some food, and let him go. But keep an eye on him."

Kieran’s POV

I stood there, unable to do anything

Lorraine had collapsed onto the cold hospital floor, her arms wrapped around herself, her body trembling as sobs tore from her throat. Her grief echoed through the walls like a haunted melody, a sound I never wanted to hear again. And I could do nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

I had fought beasts. Killed monsters. Torn through armies.

But nothing, nothing, had ever made me feel more powerless than watching her shatter.

My fists clenched at my sides, and I fought the urge to kneel beside her. To hold her. To swear I’d fix it all, even if it meant burning the whole academy to the ground. But I stayed frozen. Because I didn’t know how to fix this. Because Elise was gone.

And Lorraine was breaking.

"My prince," Varya’s voice broke through the silence beside me.

I turned slightly to see her. In her hand, she held out her phone.

"My father," she said. "He wants to speak with you. He says it’s urgent."

I took the phone without a word.

"Where are you?" the deep voice of Cassian Graves, the Royal Lycan Physician and Varya’s father, came through, stern and tense.

"I’m at the academy hospital," I answered, my voice hoarse.

"Step away from others. Go somewhere private. What I’m about to say is for your ears and your ears only."

My heart stopped.

I turned on my heel and walked to the far corner of the room, far from Lorraine and Varya, and the broken sobs of Felix in the room

"Go on," I said.

But he paused for a moment

Then came the words that changed everything.

"Your father... the Alpha King..... is dead."

I froze.

Every muscle in my body went rigid. "What....?"

"He took his own life, plunged a knife into his own heart," Cassian said grimly. "Just an hour ago. I’m the only one who knows. I was the one who found him. And now you know too."

No. No, that couldn’t be right.

My father? The most dominant Lycan in existence? The only wolf alive that attained the Total Lycan Ascension? A man whose will could make entire packs kneel? Suicide?

"I believe he was controlled," Cassian continued, his voice low. "You’ve heard of them before, rare, almost mythical, but real nonetheless. Mind controllers. Extremely rare, but devastatingly dangerous. Someone got to him, Kieran. And for this mind controller to have been able to get through to the Alpha King, they must be very powerful. And I think they got to him while he was at the academy."

I pressed the heel of my palm to my forehead, trying to think. My mind was already racing.

Someone close to the King.

Someone with access.

And then it hit me.

Thorin.

He’d vanished the moment we got back. He’d reappeared out of nowhere, acting strange, dull-eyed and odd. I didn’t say anything then because he was just Thorin. My personal servant. My childhood shadow.

But what if....

No. No, no, no.

"I need to go," I said as I walked back to where Varya stood, shoved the phone back into her hand and storming toward the hallway. "Where is Thorin?" I barked.

Varya blinked. "He was here with you but I don’t....."

I supersped out of the room, scanning the hallways, the reception area, even outside the hospital steps. I inhaled sharply, trying to trace his scent, but there was nothing. Just the faintest trace, like smoke fading into the wind.

Thorin was gone.