Malrik’s Proposal
The oppressive air in Isla’s chamber seemed to thrum with tension as Malrik returned, his steps deliberate and his figure outlined in the dim light. The tremor in his hands was more pronounced now, but the dark energy surrounding him was suffocating, filling the room with a palpable sense of dread.
Isla sat on the stone bench by the narrow window, her silver hair cascading over her shoulders, her posture defiant despite the toll of the suppressing relic. Her glowing eyes locked onto Malrik as he entered, but she said nothing, waiting for him to make his move.
“I’m tired of games, Isla,” Malrik said, his voice smooth, though it carried an undercurrent of menace. He strode closer, his sickly frame no less intimidating as the aura of his malice filled the space. “Let’s stop pretending this is anything other than what it is—a negotiation.”
Isla raised an eyebrow, her tone cutting. “A negotiation? After everything you’ve done, you think I’ll sit here and bargain with you?”
Malrik’s smirk widened, his gray eyes gleaming with a predatory edge. “Not with me, no. With him.” He produced a parchment from within his coat, holding it out like a deadly trophy. “Draven wants you back, and I want the Moon Amulet. It’s a fair trade—his most precious relic for his most precious Luna.”
Her breath hitched, the mention of the Moon Amulet sending a jolt of alarm through her. The artifact was no mere trinket; it was the heart of Crimson Fang’s strength, said to amplify an Alpha’s leadership abilities and shield the pack from external manipulation. Without it, the pack would be left vulnerable, its unity fractured.
“You think he’d trade that for me?” Isla snapped, her voice edged with disbelief. “You don’t understand Draven at all.”
Malrik tilted his head, his smirk never faltering. “Oh, I understand him perfectly. He’s built his life around power. He values it above all else—even you, Isla. You’re power incarnate, yes, but power isn’t love. When faced with the choice, he’ll hesitate. He’ll weigh what you mean to him against the survival of his pack.”
Isla’s jaw tightened, the venom in Malrik’s words hitting a nerve. “Draven won’t hesitate,” she said firmly. “Not for me, not for our children.”
Malrik leaned closer, his tone softening into something almost pitying. “Are you sure, Isla? You’ve given him two lives to think about now, not just one. The Alpha’s burden is heavier than you realize.”
Her glare was unyielding, but her stomach churned as Malrik’s words burrowed into her mind. He was wrong. He had to be. Draven would never—
Malrik straightened, his gray eyes glittering with cold amusement. “Don’t worry,” he said, his voice dripping with mock reassurance. “You’ll see the truth soon enough.”
Without waiting for a reply, he turned and left, his long coat sweeping behind him. The door slammed shut, leaving Isla alone with her racing thoughts and the faint, ominous hum of the relic in the corner.
