Alpha's Dark Desires-Chapter 195: Dark Dean

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Chapter 195: Dark Dean

Elena POV

It started with a whisper.

Not a literal one. Not a sound. More like a tremble beneath my skin—like something inside me had shifted again.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a silk robe Kane had left for me. The room was quiet, bathed in amber light from the mid-morning sun. A breeze carried in through the cracked window, stirring the curtains, but it did nothing to ease the unease tightening in my chest.

Something was wrong.

I stood up slowly, my legs still aching but steady. My body was sore, my thighs bruised in a way that made me blush and smile faintly—memories of the night before flashing through my mind. But even in the warmth of those memories, I felt it.

A chill.

An absence.

I turned toward the bathroom door. Kane wasn’t in there. He hadn’t been in there for a while. In fact... where was he?

He’d said he needed to go check on something, and he kissed my forehead before slipping out the door like it wasn’t a big deal. But it had been hours now. There was a low, gnawing throb in my belly—not physical, not hunger, not lust. Something else.

Loss.

I padded over to the closet, reaching for a soft sweater and some leggings. My fingers trembled slightly as I dressed. I told myself it was nothing. Maybe it was leftover nerves from what happened with Ace. Or maybe—

No. I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about Ace.

I couldn’t.

Kane had said he’d taken care of it. His voice had been heavy when he told me Ace was dead. I’d felt sick, ashamed, confused. But Kane, bless him, had tried to soothe me. Said it wasn’t my fault. Said he deserved it.

But even as he’d spoken, there was something about his eyes. A flicker of something he wasn’t saying.

Now, that flicker was burning into a full-on alarm in my gut.

I made my way downstairs. The house was quiet, too quiet. A house that held Kane and Dean was never this silent. Even if Dean was brooding or Kane was pacing, there were always signs of life. A radio. Footsteps. A voice muttering from another room. But now?

Nothing.

I called out, hesitant at first. "Kane?"

No answer.

"Dean?"

Still nothing.

My pulse started to climb.

Maybe they’d gone to get food. Or meet the pack. Or—something. But I didn’t believe it.

My heart began pounding louder than my footsteps as I started down the hallway toward the east wing. I hadn’t been allowed there much. Kane said it was where they stored old training gear, magical artifacts, and dangerous things the witches had left behind and the playroom-I had entered it only once the day kane marked me. But my feet moved with purpose now.

My mate was here. Somewhere. I could feel it.

I stopped outside a locked door. My hand hovered above the knob.

Why this door?

The whisper came again. Not in my ears—but in my bones.

Inside. He’s inside.

I twisted the handle. Locked.

I pressed my palm to the door, closing my eyes.

That’s when I felt it—an echo of agony, faint but steady. Like someone was screaming behind layers and layers of silence.

And then...

"Dean," I breathed.

My knees buckled as a wave of pain—not mine—washed through me. My bond flared to life like fire licking up my veins, and I gasped, falling against the door.

He was in pain.

"Dean!" I screamed, banging on the door.

Footsteps thundered from the other side of the house. Kane.

"Elena!" His voice was sharp, but the second he rounded the corner and saw me, something in his expression fractured.

"You lied to me," I whispered.

"Elena, please—"

"He’s in there," I cried, my voice breaking. "He’s in pain."

Kane rushed forward, grabbing me by the shoulders. "You weren’t supposed to feel it."

"I’m his mate," I said through clenched teeth. "Of course I can feel it. I could always feel you. You think I wouldn’t feel him?"

His face twisted with guilt. "He made me swear not to tell you."

"He’s dying, isn’t he?"

Kane didn’t answer. And that silence told me everything.

Tears filled my eyes. "Open the door."

"Elena, if you see him like that—"

"I need to see him."

Kane hesitated, he pulled out a key and unlocked it.

The door opened with a groan.

What I saw inside made my breath hitch in my throat.

Dean was tied to the bed, wrists and ankles bound in thick leather cuffs. His body was drenched in sweat, muscles twitching and trembling. His skin had darkened with black veins that pulsed unnaturally, snaking across his torso and neck. His eyes—those beautiful, smug eyes—were pitch black.

His mouth moved soundlessly as if he was trying to scream but no longer had the strength.

"Dean!" I rushed forward, falling to my knees beside him.

"Elena," Kane said sharply behind me, but I ignored him.

Dean’s eyes flickered.

"Elena..." he rasped. "You... weren’t... supposed... to see..."

I took his hand. It burned. Hot as fire.

"What happened to you?"

"Darkness..." he whispered. "Took it from you... to save you..."

A sob ripped from my chest.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "No, I didn’t ask for that—Dean—"

He smiled faintly. "Didn’t need you to ask."

I turned to Kane, my voice shaking. "Help me fix him."

"I don’t know how," Kane said. "If we try to pull the darkness out, it might destroy him."

"I don’t care," I snapped. "He’s dying anyway."

Dean’s hand gripped mine harder. "Don’t cry," he whispered. "You’re... safe now. Worth it."

I climbed onto the bed beside him, pulling his head into my lap. The black veins throbbed beneath my fingers.

"No," I said. "I won’t let this take you."

"Elena—" Kane began.

"I won’t," I growled.

He stirred at the sound of my voice, his breath hitching. His mouth opened and closed like he was trying to form words. I took his hand—burning hot. His skin sizzled beneath my touch, but I didn’t let go.

"Elena..." he croaked. "You... weren’t supposed to come..."

Tears filled my eyes. "You’re burning up—what is this?"

He coughed then, hard—and that’s when it happened.

Thick black smoke burst from his mouth.

I gasped, jerking back as the smoke rose like a serpent, writhing in the air. It wasn’t just smoke. It was alive. Writhing. Pulsing. Searching.

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