The Feral Alpha's Captive-Chapter 87: Lullaby

🦋 ALTHEA

The door creaked open, the moment I unlocked it. Like the person had been waiting to hear the click.

The smell of food wafted through the air, my gut twisted, bile rising. The crone stepped in with a platter, my eyes narrowed at the slight jump to her step. "You barely eat," She said, ignoring my less than pleased expression.

Disappointment gnawed at me. Maybe it was the madness creeping up on me but I wanted Yana to walk through the door and tell me it was all a dream. But I should have known better than to believe ghosts visited the living—my stepfather never came to visit in three years.

She set the platter down, turning to me, she smiled tenderly. "How are you feeling, dear?" 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

The ice around my heart melted. I was always a sucker for words of endearment. It was the pathetic part of me that wanted love no matter where it came from.

"I am fine," I replied stiffly.

Her eye narrowed, the action was not threatening, rather it was assessing. "You don’t have to lie to me," Her unseeing eye twitched.

I blinked, surprised.

"I did not lose my eyes for nothing," She winked with the seeing eye.

Again, I blinked.

She chuckled a little, her wrinkled face crinkling with amusement as she settled into the chair across from me. "You think I don’t see through your walls, child? I’ve been reading people longer than you’ve been alive."

"I’m not a child," I muttered.

"No," she agreed softly. "You’re not. You haven’t been allowed to be one in a very long time."

The truth of it stung more than I expected.

She gestured to the platter. "Eat. Even if you don’t want to."

I stared at the food—roasted vegetables, bread still warm, some kind of stew that smelled rich and earthy. My stomach growled traitorously despite the nausea.

"I’m not hungry."

"Your body disagrees." She leaned back, arms crossed. "And your wolf needs strength. Whether you want her or not."

Zyra.

As if summoned by the mention, I felt her stir in the back of my mind—a lazy stretch, like a cat waking from sleep.

"She’s right. Eat."

"Stay out of this," I hissed under my breath. Why was I snapping so much?

The crone’s eyebrow arched. "Talking to her already, are we?"

Heat crept up my neck. "How did you—"

"I told you. I see more than most." She tapped her temple. "And I know what it’s like to share space with something... other."

I froze. "You have a wolf?"

"Had." Her expression went distant. "Lost her when I lost my eyes. The price of seeing too much."

Silence settled heavy between us.

"What did you see?" I asked quietly.

She smiled, sad and knowing. "Everything that mattered. And nothing I could change."

I understood that feeling too well.

She pushed the platter closer. "Eat, Althea. You’re going to need your strength for what’s coming."

"The war."

"Among other things." Her seeing eye fixed on me with unnerving intensity.

There was something she was not saying. Things she knew I wanted to know.

But as if she knew a question rather not answer was coming, she spoke again.

"You are just like your mother."

I stilled, eyes going wide, apprehension searing me like a brand.

But despite what she had said, she kept smiling. "She came here, to my daughter-in-law, the entire pack apprehensive at her intrusion. Nothing good came from outsiders—they did not like the Luna and they hated Silverfang pack. There was no warm welcome, only veiled hostility."

My intrigue peaked through my pooling dread. I had no idea that my mother had a relationship with the pack or even bore a different name. I knew nothing about her.

"Then she melted all our hearts, especially Seraphina. She planted with us, she hunted with us, she slept with us." Her voice had taken on a whimsical note. Then it died and took on something heavy. "Then she had our children in chains and Seraphina’s head in her hand."

Her eyes found focus and locked on mine.

A soft gasp escaped me.

"You look like her, you know. Same gentle face. Same soft voice." The tenderness bled from her expression, replaced by something sharp. Something cold. "I have faith in the moon. In the fates. In the destinies they choose to weave together."

She leaned forward.

"You being Thorne’s mate—I hope it will be a blessing to both your trampled souls. I pray the bond will heal what was broken."

Her voice dropped, taking on an edge that made my blood run cold.

"But I will never lose another home to a Nocturne."

The name hit me like a slap. Nocturne. My mother’s family name.

"I will die before I see fire set on infants again," she continued, her good eye blazing. "I would much rather put a stake through your heart myself than watch history repeat."

My breath came shallow, panic clawing at my ribs.

"You must tame whatever evil resides within you before it corrupts." Her voice was steel now. "You are the spawn of not one monster but two—werewolf and fae, both bloodlines steeped in ruin. And I do not know if you have the strength to smother what runs through your veins."

She reached for the platter, lifting it slightly.

Beneath the bread and vegetables sat something small and dark.

Black berries, glistening like polished obsidian.

"Nightshade," she said simply.

My heart stopped.

"If you cannot fight for the light—" Her voice was almost gentle now. Almost kind. "—if you feel the darkness winning, if your wolf becomes something you cannot control—"

She pushed the platter closer.

"Put yourself out of your own misery."

The words hung in the air like a noose.

"Spare us all the pain of doing it for you."

She stood, smoothing her skirts.

"Eat, child. Gather your strength. Prove me wrong." She moved toward the door, then paused. "Or prove me right, and spare my grandson the agony of loving something that will destroy him like Poppy did. I will hold you while your soul departs, I will smooth back your hair and I will sing you a lullaby."

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