Bloodbound to the Witch Heir: Claimed By Four

Luther’s POV

*****

6:30pm, Crimson Expanse audience section.

His arms were folded across his chest, eyes fixed with a narrow gaze on the holographic screen levitating above the field.

Silence stretched like a rubber band about to break any second.

It’s been almost an hour now.

Almost an hour since the hybrids stepped into the pocket dimension for the final trial of the Blood Trials. And the second they landed there... Things went wrong.

Fast.

Above the Expanse, dark clouds appeared, making the evening feel like pure midnight. Thunder crackled across the skies, heavy winds blowing through the place.

This all started after Celeste and Caelum got to those mirrors. And then her magic burst in a way that not only made his jaw drop—but also hit the bond with something sharp. Something that made him question everything. Something he’s chased for a while now.

Clarity.

Or, at least a semblance of it.

All at once, he started questioning things he’s grown way too comfortable with. It was as if a switch was flicked in his head. Or a veil was finally lifted.

"How long is this going to go on for?" A guy behind him questioned worriedly. "They’ve been at it for a while now. And look at that screen."

Right now the screen was basically useless in seeing what was happening. Storm clouds messed with the surveillance magic, creating nothing but static flashing on the screen.

"Yeah, at first I thought maybe Celeste’s magic outburst caused it," a girl spoke this time. "But now? Yeesh. Gods, I hope Caelum is okay."

Luther nearly scoffed.

Typical.

They mostly cared only about the favourite twin and the academy’s star student.

"I have a feeling those roads they split into are going to be risky." Another girl. "We last saw them when they separated."

"Is no one going to talk about the magic Celeste released though? I swear, I felt that shit all the way here."

"Probably a glitch in the pocket dimension wards. Just like this surveillance."

"Tch. Yeah. There’s no way she’d be able to perform such a feat otherwise."

He was so close to barking at all of them to shut the hell up. But he didn’t.

Instead, his eyes trailed to the high table.

From this angle, he could see the side profiles of Thorne, Luna Queen Janelle and Professor Amelia.

While Luna Queen Janelle seemed visibly troubled, Dean Thorne’s facial expression was plain. But his eyes? They held the tension Luther was searching for.

Tension of someone who’s lost control.

A couple of professors walked up to the High table, whispering something to the Dean and Professor Amelia. The latter nodded, a practised smile curving her lips as she got on her feet.

"Forgive the interruption, students." She began, tone devoid of urgency. "Currently our surveillance wards are experiencing some... Difficulties. But rest assured it’ll be fixed and we can get back to watching our hybrids finish the trials."

Hmph.

That was a load of horse shit and Luther knew it.

"They are alive and well," the professor went on. "So let’s just wait and keep our fingers crossed for those whom we support." She placed her free hand beside her mouth, whispering teasingly. "It’s Bloodoak, FYI."

Some students giggled at that, easing the tension a bit.

Not for Luther though.

He was about to go find Atlas when a whiff of a familiar perfume trailed into his nose. An aggravatingly familiar one that made his face scrunch.

Goddess, no.

Lysandra.

"Poor Celeste," she said, standing behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Hopefully the professor is right and they’re okay. She seemed to be in so much distress when they faced that mirror trial."

Caring words had never sounded so venomous to Luther.

Without looking back, he grabbed her hand, shoving it off his shoulder. "You shouldn’t be here, Lysandra."

She made an audible gasp. "Why?"

"Because I told you I needed a break."

He hoped more than anything that it would be enough to push her away.

Sadly—

"Don’t be like this, my Alpha." She lulled, fingers brushing from the back of his ear to his lips. He stiffened, watching her stretch a leg over to his seat, ignoring people who stared. "We can work things out. We always do, right?"

While she successfully got to sit beside him, her fingers never left his face. Oh, no. Rather they pressed, tracing across his chin and then coming down his throat.

Luther’s jaw worked. "You can’t be serious."

Chills crawled through every cell as she pulled closer, moving his face until he was staring into her stormy eyes. "But I am, Luther." She whispered, a sly grin forming. "You know... Maybe Celeste being gone is a good thing."

’Bloody hell—claw her hand off your jaw!’ His wolf howled. ’I thought you were done with her and focused on figuring out your recent craziness?’

A sharp breath left him. ’I am—’

’Then fucking act like it!’

Driven by his most primal instincts, he grabbed Lysandra’s wrist, slamming it on the stone stand between them. She winced, shock etching her features as he growled, low:

"Why?"

Her heart beat so loud that any Lupine would probably be able to hear it by just concentrating.

Thunder crackled above them as she shook her head. "I... Why what?"

"Why do you hate her so much?" Luther peered closer. "Celeste. What is it about her that’s made you so bitter, cold and ugly? Almost as if she wronged you in a past life or..."

He paused.

There were words he was about to say just now. But the moment they slipped through his mind—he held them back.

’... Or she got anger and hate that isn’t hers.’ he completed in his mind. ’Thoughts. Emotions that seemed to spring out of nowhere.’

’Uhm...’ his wolf did a psychic blink. ’Are we still talking about your deranged situationship right now? Or—’

’—No.’ he withdrew his grip from Lysandra’s wrist, eyes widening again with that clarity he got after Celeste’s outburst. ’I’m talking about me.’

This was it. The freaking last piece of the puzzle. The reason why his feelings were split between two women in the first place.

All this time it’s been staring him in the face. Mocking. Laughing. Whispering sweet nothings into his ears. Pulling him further away from the truth.

’Wait a minute,’ his wolf seemed to be catching on. ’Are you saying—?’

"Luther?" Lysandra snapped her fingers in front of his face. "You... You spaced out." Her lips pursed anxiously. "Listen, I know I’m putting so much pressure on you and—"

"But of course, you are..." The Alpha chuckled, his chest heavy with something he couldn’t name.

The Expanse was still lively with theories and conversations being flung around, drowning his gradual creep into realisation. Perfect cover.

Grabbing Lysandra’s shoulder, he pressed his fingers deep until his nails nearly broke skin. "... The ’pressure’ you just mentioned isn’t something easy. Is it?"

Lysandra’s eyes flickered with confusion and hurt. And for the first time in weeks—he didn’t care about either.

Not even slightly.

"W–What are you—"

"You placed these feelings in me somehow." Luther cut to the chase. "Didn’t you? Twisted my mind and made me fall in love with you."

Terror creased her brows.

Guilt.

He knew it!

"Luther—"

"Tell me what you did to me!" His voice rose an octave, attracting a few glances.

Claws already itched to sprout but he held back.

Her blood won’t soil his hands.

Not yet.

"L–Luther," Lysandra’s voice cracked, edged with hesitation. But the longer she stared at him, the more her boldness dissipated. An Alpha King’s daughter or not—he was an Alpha. A powerful one. "I’m... I pushed your feelings. Just a little bit."

Anger threatened to burst out of his chest but he bore it. "Pushed them how? Be straightforward and tell me what you did to me or I swear I’ll—"

"I cast a spell on you!" She yelled, shrugging his hand off her shoulder. Tears soiled her eyes but she blinked them back. "I cast a love spell on you. A powerful one."

Cold traced Luther’s spine.

Suddenly the Blood Trials, the Expanse... Everything. It all felt like it was melting away, the world spinning underneath his feet.

Weeks.

He’s spent weeks of his life, chasing after a girl. And none of those intense feelings were real?

"I didn’t do it alone." Lysandra sniffed, mouth twisting. "I... I had help. She assured me everything would be okay and I’ll get you."

She grabbed his hands, eyes tinted with desperation. "I swear, it was never meant to hurt you. It... It was just—"

"Spare me the theatrics," he yanked his hands out of her grip, head tilting dangerously. "Tell me. Who?"