My Most Precious Human

Looking for closure

Draven led me to the top floor of Randall D'Apolito's mansion. As a precaution, six warriors from the

Moon Hill Pack followed us. There were no live signs anywhere, but that didn't mean that any corner of

this place was safe to walk around.

Each floor of the residence was covered in blood. Corpses were lying on the floor, slaughtered and

dismembered. The gruesome odor penetrated our nostrils, making it harder to breathe. Who was

capable of doing something like that? What kinds of monsters were able to defeat all the best fighters

in the pack, literally tearing them apart? Thinking that I could face the ones responsible for this

bloodbath scared the hell out of me.

Draven held my hand with a strong grip while we were climbing upstairs. I figured that he wanted to

give me the courage to face my father, and I was grateful for that. Nonetheless, my greatest concern at

that moment didn't involve my father in the slightest. I was terrified of the unknown danger, hoping that

whoever caused this slaughter was long gone.

I had never thought that while being on my way to the throne hall, I would wonder if Randall D'Apolito

was still breathing. There were many times when I wished he was dead, but I also needed some form

of closure. I wanted to stand in front of him armed with my strength and confidence. I had never

planned to challenge my father. I knew that he wouldn't hesitate to kill me, but I wouldn't bear to kill

him. Killing someone who brought me into this world would have devastated me, leaving me

irreversibly broken. Yet, I knew there were ways for justice to be served since Draven had every right to

challenge Randall D'Apolito and take revenge for the murder of his father. Was stepping aside and

letting someone else kill my father making me a coward? If so, then I would become a coward. But it

was still better than killing him and shedding the blood that also ran in my veins. If I did that, I would

turn out to be just like the man I hated my whole life.

As we reached the highest floor, I took a sharp breath and jerked my hand away from Draven's grip.

Chills ran down my spine, and my heart thundered like never before. I crossed my arms and rubbed my

shoulders as if I was freezing. The aura filling the entire corridor brought overwhelming pressure, able

to crush my guts from the inside. The ominousness hung densely in the air, creating a dark fog that

marked the way to the throne hall. I had felt that kind of aura before. It was the day I had found JD's

notes in my room, only this time it seemed much more sinister and violent.

"I think JD's was here…" I mumbled, leaning closer to Draven.

"How do you know that?" he asked, surprised by my sudden, fearful reaction.

"Can't you sense this heavy, dark aura?" I asked, struggling to pull the air into my lungs.

He shook his head, scanning my expression. I wondered how he could not scent it. It was so vivid. It

felt more intense and explicit than any smell I had felt before. I looked at the faces of the other wolves

following us, and they didn't seem alarmed in the slightest. Was I the only one who felt it?

We walked further and stopped in front of the throne hall entrance. I closed my eyes and straightened

my hearing sense.

"A weak heartbeat sound comes from the inside, a single heartbeat," I said, slowly pulling out my hand

towards the door handle.

Draven put his hand on my shoulder. "Let's go," he said, urging me to enter the room.

I opened the door and immediately felt the smell of blood. Red stains led a trail from the end of the hall

towards the throne podium. My eyes followed the bloody marks until I saw Alpha Randall D'Apolito

sitting collapsed on his throne. He barely moved and was heavily bleeding. I stopped breathing.

"Lilith." Draven's voice broke me out of bewilderment.

I nodded, regaining my focus, and then slowly looked through the entire hall. There were only three

living creatures inside: my bleeding father, Draven, and me. Clenching my teeth, I walked forward

towards the throne, and Draven walked two steps behind me. I could hear the mighty Alpha of the

Southern Woods Pack pull in a shaky, hoarse breath. As I stepped closer, I saw that his stomach and

chest were cut open. The wounds were so deep that it was a miracle that his heart was still beating.

"The fucking bastard is dying. There is no chance to regenerate from the state he's in," Draven hissed.

I stood on the first step of the podium and leaned over my father to look him in the eye. "I know," I said

coldly.

My father reacted to my voice. His eyes widened once they met mine, but his expression still carried

disdain. I knew that he recognized me, but even while bleeding out in front of me, he still felt superior.

"Hello… father." As weird as it might sound, I had no idea what else to say. Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

His lips slowly formed into a vicious smirk. "My child… came to kill me," he sneered, his voice

wheezing.

I gasped. Did he just acknowledge me as his child? Was he trying to make me think of him as my

parent? The mere thought of it disgusted me.

"I should have known that you could only see me as your daughter seconds before dying." I gritted my

teeth.

He raised his eyebrows, and let out a hoarse chuckle. "Not you… You are nothing… A human…"

The contempt in his voice broke something within me. For a second, I thought that he was seeking

some odd kind of redemption. How naïve of me.

"Your eyes…" he continued, his tone filled with loathing, "I want to dig them out… because they look

like hers… You don't deserve them…"

Draven rushed towards the throne. "Son of the bitch!" He stretched his hands towards my father's

throat, but I blocked him.

"No," I squeezed out.

I stayed calm on the outside, but on the inside, my blood began to boil. If it had been me from years

back, those words would have pierced right through my heart, and I would have felt devastating pain.

Now, it caused my rage, which killed the final ounce of pity I kept for the person I was looking at. I

laughed. My laughter was spiteful and hysterical.

"I don't know who has done this to you… father, but I'm going to find him and thank him because your

death will be able to wash away some of your wrongdoings." I leaned closer to speak against his ear. "I

wanted to thank you… father, for giving me your alpha genes, which turned me into a very powerful

human with unique abilities."

He gasped and narrowed his eyes at me, as if he didn't believe my words. I chuckled dryly and locked

my eyes on him.

"I defeated Derek. I avenged Ezra!" I roared.

"You… couldn't," my father breathed.

"But I did. So I thank you for the strength you unintentionally gave me," I smiled sorrowfully.

Shock painted his entire face. The agitation my words caused made him bleed more severely. I

observed it happen, feeling a strange squeeze in my chest. I forced a wave of air into my lungs, fighting

against the pressure.

"I will use this strength to try to make up for your sins, starting with giving the Moon Lake Pack their

lands you have stolen," I stated, clenching my fist.

The disdain dissolved from his eyes as if he had finally acknowledged my words. I could see him slowly

scanning me from head to toe while his expression started betraying something similar to regret. I

didn't believe that mask of his. He didn't deserve my mercy or pity.

I stepped back, lining up with Draven, and loudly claimed, "Goodbye father. I hope that once you die,

you will meet my mother, your mate that you killed, and that she will push you straight to hell."

His mouth opened in a slow inhale, while his hand reached toward me, gasping, "Daughter…" and then

he died.