Chapter129

Deborah's POV

The coarse ropes dug into my wrists, their jagged fibers biting into my skin with every small movement. The sharp pain was a relentless reminder of my captivity.

Lugh dragged me out of the manor and shoved me toward the towering grand entrance.

A cold wind whipped across my face, but it was the sight before me that froze me in place.

Standing before the manor was an army—a perfectly formed and disciplined force.

They stood tall, their ranks unbroken, their faces resolute with unshakable determination.

At the forefront were the werewolves. Some had shifted into their wolf forms, massive and imposing, their fur gleaming like burnished metal in the sunlight. Their claws gripped the ground with an almost deliberate precision, every step radiating power and confidence.

Their eyes were fierce, bright with both primal strength and sharp intelligence.

The rest remained in human form, their combat gear fitting snugly over their strong frames, their stances unwavering.

And at the very front of them all stood Matthew.

Even surrounded by warriors, he was impossible to overlook.

He wore the Tirfothuinn uniform, the insignia of command shining on his shoulder like a beacon.

His posture was upright, his shoulders squared, and his sharp, piercing eyes surveyed the battlefield with the focus of a hawk. Every line of his uniform and every detail of his stance screamed authority.

He looked every bit the leader of Tirfothuinn—strong, fearless, and unyielding.

Even in the face of Lugh's cruelty, he stood steady, as if every move was calculated and deliberate.

He wasn't just a man; he was their hope.

Lugh observed the scene with a faint smirk tugging at his lips. His voice rang out, cold and deliberate. "Mr Matthew Wellspring—oh no, forgive me—Mr Matthew Duskmire." He drew out the name mockingly, savoring its sound. "If you value your beloved's life, you'll order your troops to withdraw from Ablach this instant."

Matthew's gaze snapped to me. His eyes narrowed, and I could see the fire behind them. He didn't need me to explain; he already knew I was a hostage.

Even in the face of Lugh's cruelty, he stood steaI caught the flicker of anger and pain cross his face, but his composure remained unshaken.dy, as if every move was calculated and deliberate. His hands stayed steady at his sides, though I could see the barely restrained impulse trembling beneath his calm exterior.

"I'm bound to him!" I shouted, desperate to make Matthew understand. "If I die, he dies too—"

Before I could finish, a hand clamped over my mouth, cutting off my words.

It was Chad.

He appeared suddenly, moving with both speed and deference. His hand pressed firmly over my lips, silencing me.

For a moment, I froze, startled. Then I realized the truth. He wasn't stopping me to harm me. He was protecting me.

I had already said enough. Matthew would have understood my message. I would survive. He didn't need to let me sway him.

Matthew's expression shifted. He understood what I meant, but his eyes betrayed his inner conflict. His fists clenched, his knuckles whitening, as if he were trying to restrain himself from making a choice he didn't want to face.

Lugh released a sharp, cruel laugh that echoed through the air. "Mr Matthew Duskmire, even if she cannot die, there are worse things than death. I can make her existence so unbearable that she'll wish she could die. I'll make her life a living torment, a waking nightmare from which she'll never escape."

His words pierced like a dagger, each syllable dripping with venom. His laugh was like a ripple of darkness spreading through the air, seeping into the hearts of everyone who heard it.

"I've never loved anyone but myself," he continued, his voice low and icy. "My daughter? She's nothing but a vessel to sustain me. This is your chance to prove your so-called love for her. If you truly care about her, withdraw your troops now."

Matthew's face hardened, his emotions visibly warring within him. His jaw tightened as he tried to find a way out of the trap Lugh had set.

Then, after a heavy pause, he spoke.

"We'll retreat."

The words fell like stones into a still pond, sending ripples of shock through the Tirfothuinn army.

"What?"

"No! We've come this far!"

"We can't back down now!"

The soldiers erupted into protests, their voices surging into a chaotic cacophony of disbelief and anger. The perfectly aligned ranks began to waver, their discipline cracking under the weight of their commander's unexpected words.

Chaos spread like wildfire through the ranks. Some argued with each other, while others stepped forward, imploring Matthew to reconsider.

Lugh watched the scene unfold with a glint of triumph in his eyes. His smirk widened, the malevolence in his expression deepening.

"Well, what's it going to be, son-in-law?" he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery.

That single term—"son-in-law"—threw the soldiers into further disarray.

I could see Matthew faltering, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. His eyes met mine again, filled with anguish and apology.

No. This couldn't go on.

I couldn't let this madness continue.

My mind raced. The bond between me and Lugh meant that if I died, he would die too.

It also meant the reverse was true.

If he died, I would die.

But Tirfothuinn couldn't retreat. Not for me. Not for anyone.

I clenched my fists, steeling myself against the fear surging through me. I turned my head slightly, catching Chad's gaze.

He met my eyes briefly and gave me a subtle nod. It was a silent message: Stay calm. Don't lose control.

His calm steadied me, but the moment was fleeting.

I glanced at Lugh. His grin had spread wider, his confidence growing with every second the army remained in chaos. He thought he had won.

But he was wrong.

I had to end this.

I took a deep breath, drawing strength from everything I had left within me. Then, with a sudden surge of determination, I yanked myself free from Chad's grip and shouted at the top of my lungs:

"Omnes in pulverem redeant, Ignis et tempestas regnant, Mors tibi et mihi veniat!"

The world seemed to stop.

The air grew heavy, scorching, as if the very fabric of reality was bending under the weight of my words. The light around us twisted and warped, shadows stretching unnaturally as the power of the incantation filled the space.

I saw Lugh's expression falter. His smirk disappeared, replaced by a look of shock and pain. His body jerked backward, as though an invisible force had struck him square in the chest.

But before I could see the full effect, darkness rushed toward me.

The last thing I heard was Lugh's laugh—low, guttural, and brimming with sinister promise—before the void swallowed me whole.