The Alpha's forbidden omega mate - Chapter 320: Chapter 320

Derek’s POV:
The air in the small, stone chamber hummed with a low, resonant energy, a mix of ancient magic and the comforting scent of pine and woodsmoke.
It was a familiar aroma, a constant presence in the Drakhor stronghold, a place that had become my sanctuary, my prison, my… battleground.
I sat cross-legged on a woven mat, the rough texture grounding me, my hands resting palms-up on my knees, my eyes closed, my body trembling.
Not from the chill of the mountain air, but from the volatile power that still surged within me.
The larva’s insidious whispers, Damien’s twisted influence, a darkness I was learning to control, to contain, to… embrace.
You’re weak, Derek.
The larva hissed, its voice a venomous whisper, a constant attempt to undermine my resolve, to shatter my spirit, to pull me back into the shadows, to possess me completely.
You can’t fight me. You can’t escape me. You’re mine now.
“Not today,” I murmured, my voice a low growl, pushing back against the darkness, the fear, the self-doubt.
The larva was a part of me now, yes, but it wouldn’t control me. I wouldn’t let it.
"Mind sharing that secret, brother?"
Rowan’s voice, a familiar warmth, a gentle tease that made my lips curl into a reluctant smile, cut through the tense silence, his presence a welcome comfort, a reminder of the love, the support, the hope, that surrounded me, a bond that even the larva’s darkness, even Damien’s influence, couldn’t break.
I opened my eyes, blinking against the soft light, my gaze settling on Rowan, who sat beside me, his amber eyes shining with a mix of concern and a playful amusement, a reminder of the brother I knew, the friend I had almost lost, the bond that had brought us through hell and back again.
“Just telling that nasty little parasite who’s boss,” I said, my voice a low rumble, trying to sound stronger than I felt.
He chuckled, a genuine, heartfelt sound that warmed me from the inside out, a reminder of the joy we’d shared, the laughter we’d almost forgotten, the lightness that was slowly returning to our lives.
“You know, for a guy who’s battling an ancient, malevolent entity, you’ve got a pretty good sense of humor,” he said, his hand reaching out, his touch a grounding force, a brother’s comfort, a reminder that I wasn’t alone.
“Just trying to keep it light, brother,” I replied, my wolf purring softly, a mix of affection and a playful challenge, a familiar banter that chased away the lingering shadows, the unspoken fears, the pain we couldn’t deny.
“Lest the darkness get too… comfy. Wouldn't want to make our guest feel too at home.”
Rowan grinned, his amber eyes twinkling.
“Well, try not to make him too uncomfortable, either. You know, just in case he decides to take up knitting or something. We wouldn’t want him feeling left out.”
His ridiculous attempt at humor actually made me laugh, a genuine laugh, the first one in weeks. The tension in my shoulders finally eased, and the larva, for a brief moment, seemed to recede.
"Knitting?" I chuckled, shaking my head. "That larva's got terrible taste. He'd probably go for something more… macabre. Like… taxidermy."
“Maybe he’d collect porcelain dolls,” Rowan offered, his lips twitching. “Or start a stamp collection.”
We both burst into laughter, a mix of relief and a shared absurdity, a much-needed moment of lightness in the face of the darkness that still loomed, a reminder that even in the midst of grief and fear and a battle for our very souls, we could still find humor, we could still find solace in each other’s company.
“We’re a mess, Rowan.” My voice was softer now, the laughter fading, the memories of the spirit realm, the losses we’d endured, a constant reminder of what we’d been through, the journey we were still on.
“You’re right, Derek,” he said, his voice a soft murmur, his hand finding mine, his fingers intertwining with mine, a silent promise, a shared understanding of the burdens we carried, the love we shared, the destinies we were determined to reclaim.
“We are a mess. But… we’re a Magnus mess. And… we’re going to get through this… together. Just like… always.”
And as we sat there, side-by-side, our scents mingling, a mix of pine and leather, of smoke and ancient magic, the fire crackling in the hearth, the warmth spreading through the chamber, chasing away the chill, I knew that he was right.
We were a mess. But we were also… strong. Resilient. And… we were… family. And nothing, not even Damien’s darkness, not even the larva’s insidious influence, could take that away from us.
“So, what exactly do we have to do?” I asked, breaking the comfortable silence, my gaze shifting to the array of strange objects that surrounded us.
Bowls of herbs, crystals that pulsed with faint light, talismans that radiated an ancient energy – the tools and weapons of our battle against a darkness that lurked within me, and without.
“Korvash said it was time that I needed to learn to control it, but…” I trailed off, rubbing the back of my neck, the frustration evident.
“Honestly, all this meditation and chanting and… and weird smells… is making me want to go howl at the moon.”
Rowan chuckled, his gaze meeting mine, his eyes shining with understanding. “Yeah, I can see that. But I think it’s… helping, Derek. Even if it doesn’t feel like it.”
“It’s helping me practice patience, at least,” I conceded, trying to lighten the mood. “Something I know you’ve never struggled with, little brother.”
“Ha ha,” Rowan deadpanned, but the corners of his mouth twitched into a smile.
He reached out and grabbed a small bowl, its surface etched with ancient runes, and handed it to me. “Here, drink this. It’ll help with the… uh… taxidermy urges.”
I rolled my eyes, but took the bowl, the liquid inside a murky mix of herbs and something I couldn’t quite identify, its scent a potent blend of earth and woodsmoke, a reminder of the ancient magic we were dealing with.
“Taxidermy urges?” I raised an eyebrow, my lips twitching.
“Well, you did mention it,” Rowan said, his lips curving into a teasing grin. “I just want to be prepared for all of the… possibilities.”
“Shut up, Rowan.” I shook my head, a reluctant smile touching my lips. “Just tell me what to do.”
“It’s about… connection, Derek,” Rowan said, his voice a soft rumble, his gaze meeting mine, his amber eyes filled with a mix of concern and a strength that anchored me.
“You need to connect with the larva. To understand it. To… to control it. Not to… fight it.”
“But… how, Rowan?” I asked, my voice a mix of doubt and a desperate hope. “How can I… connect with something that’s… so… evil? That’s trying to… to destroy me?”
Rowan’s expression softened, his hand reaching out to touch my arm, his touch a comforting presence, a reminder of the love we shared, the bond that even darkness couldn’t break.
“You’re not going to be destroyed, Derek,” he said, his voice a soft murmur, his eyes holding mine, a promise of protection, of hope, of a future that was still within our grasp.
“You’re stronger than that. And we’re here for you. We’ll… we’ll help you through this. Together.”
“You sure you’re not tired of this, brother?” My voice was laced with a doubt I couldn’t hide.
“Tired of you, you mean?” Rowan joked, punching my arm lightly.
“Never. You’re too much fun to be around.” He paused and then added, his voice serious.
“Besides, I have a mate to look after. And a kid. No time for being tired.”
His words, a testament to his love, his sense of responsibility, made my chest ache with a bittersweet longing.
“Now, drink your antidote. We’ve got work to do.”