Why? 1(Flashback )

Alex's breath was still uneven as he stared at the approaching figure. His mind, clouded with exhaustion and grief, struggled to register what he was seeing.

But as the silhouette stepped further into the dim light, there was no mistaking it.

Nyxara.

Her sleek, white fur shimmered beneath the artificial glow, streaks of obsidian-black running like veins through her form. Those piercing golden eyes—deep, intelligent—locked onto him, their usual sharpness softened by something else. Concern and sadness mixed with a little bit of shame.

She stopped a few steps away, watching him in silence.

A surge of emotion tore through Alex's chest, raw and uncontrollable. His vision blurred, rage and sorrow tangling into something unbearable. His breath hitched, and before he could stop himself, the words exploded from his throat.

"How?! How are you here?!"

His voice cracked, sharp with disbelief and something dangerously close to desperation. His hands trembled as they clenched into fists, nails biting into his palms. He had lost everything—his mother, his father, his clan. And yet, here she stood as if she had walked out of a dream, untouched by the devastation that had shattered his world.

Nyxara's ears flicked slightly, the faintest twitch of her tail betraying her unease. Then she exhaled, slow and measured, as if bracing herself.

"Your mother," she said simply.

Alex blinked. His ragged breaths slowed, confusion cutting through the storm raging inside him. "What?"

Nyxara stepped forward, closing the distance between them. "She teleported me here."

Alex's mind reeled. That didn't make sense. "How? The heads of the other patricians—they jammed all the portals. No one was supposed to escape."

A low rumble echoed from Nyxara's chest—not quite a growl, but something close. "They blocked what they thought they could control. But your mother… she had something else. A portable portal. One they couldn't jam."

His stomach twisted. "A portable portal?"

Nyxara nodded. "Not the kind the clans regulate. This was different—her own creation, separate from their influence. She must have prepared it long ago, just in case."

Alex's jaw clenched. Of course. His mother had always been steps ahead of everyone else. Always planning, always preparing. And even in death, her plans were still saving him.

A sharp ache twisted in his chest.

His mother had sent Nyxara here—to him. But why? Why didn't she follow? Why didn't she send Logan or Morgan?

Nyxara's gaze softened as she stepped closer, lowering herself to eye level with him. "I know what you're thinking, and it isn't what you think. She sent me to ensuring you're not alone, Alex."

The words hit harder than he expected. His breath hitched, and for a moment, he almost let himself believe it.

But deep down, something inside him whispered otherwise.

He had lost too much.

And the path ahead… he knew it would be one he walked in blood.

Alex's fingers curled into fists against the cold marble, his nails biting into his palms. He wanted to believe Nyxara's words, but his hollowness refused to be filled. His mother had set this all in motion. She had planned for this.

Then why wasn't she here?

His voice was quieter this time, almost fragile. "Then why didn't she come with you?"

Nyxara's ears flicked slightly, and hesitation passed over her features. "Because she couldn't."

Alex's breath caught. He wasn't sure what answer he had expected, but the weight in Nyxara's voice made his stomach twist.

"She—" Nyxara exhaled sharply. "She stayed behind to buy time. You know what that means."

He did.

A cold, merciless understanding settled in his gut.

His mother hadn't just sent Nyxara here—she and the rest had sacrificed themselves to ensure they got through.

The portable portal must have been her last play, one the patricians didn't see coming. She had outmaneuvered them one final time.

But at what cost?

Alex's arms trembled as he forced himself to sit upright, his body screaming in protest from exhaustion and grief. His mind raced back to Logan and Morgan—his elder siblings. If they hadn't been sent here, they must have stayed behind too.

For him.

He clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding together as another wave of anguish surged. The edges of his vision blurred, not from tears this time, but from something colder. Something darker.

"She sent me here to deliver something," Nyxara continued, observing him. "And to make sure you—"

"Stop." His voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it now.

Nyxara went silent.

Alex's gaze dropped to the marble floor beneath him. For the first time in hours, he wasn't crying. His emotions had burned out, leaving only a hollow, chilling clarity.

The clan was gone. His father was gone.

His mother was gone.

Logan and Morgan were gone.

And he was still here.

Not by choice.

By design.

His mother had set this in motion. And now, he had no choice but to move forward.

Slowly, Alex raised his head, meeting Nyxara's gaze. His voice was steady when he spoke again, but beneath it, something new simmered.

"What did she send with you? And why did she send me here?"

Nyxara studied him for a moment. Then, with a flick of her tail, she turned toward one of the nearby hallways. "Follow me."

Without another word, she began walking into the depths of the underground hideout.

Alex felt his body move for the first time since arriving, not out of desperation, but with purpose.

And this time, he wasn't looking back.