Chapter 109: _No Such Thing As Peace
Atlas’ POV
*****
From the second they stepped into the restaurant... He knew something was off.
Call it a witch’s intuition. Or simply the fact that the wolves ’discreetly’ turned their heads to their table when the group sat.
He’d hoped nothing would happen. Werewolves have always been territorial brutes—a stereotype he’s tried culling from his psyche most of his life.
And still, here came these neanderthals, emboldened enough to spite Celeste. Or probably underestimating them.
They were about to realise how wrong they were.
When Luther exploded, punching the leader of the group who called himself "Alpha Jacob"... Chaos erupted seconds after.
The other wolves took fighting stances, the biggest amongst them charging first at Luther, claws drawn out of his fingers. He was fast—until he wasn’t.
Atlas flicked his wrist, restraining him with a telekinetic spell. "Do not make this harder than it should be," he warned, rising to his feet. Luther swerved his head to him while the other wolves froze. "Stand down, move along and we’ll forget any of this ever happened."
He’d barely finished talking when a ball of fire hit the wolf he held back point-blank on the chest. The man’s eyes widened before he was flung by the explosion, crashing into a table and breaking it in half.
Atlas’ fingers strained.
That wasn’t his doing.
"There will be no ’moving along’." Azrael’s words echoed like a curse, shadows coiling around him as he stood up. Even his own shadow enlarged, spreading over the men like a cloak. "Not after you marked yourselves dead the second you decided to display your foolishness before me."
Hesitation flashed past the faces of the four remaining wolves as Azrael slipped out of the table. Sunlight from the glass walls dimmed. Light bulbs above flickered.
For a few seconds, it seemed like the whole world held its breath.
This was it.
This was the power and authority Azrael Vaelmont always exuded that made Atlas question him. Ever since that night on his balcony. Then again when he made him kneel with nothing but his mind.
A second year witch having all that power? And control? And still managed to keep his talent hidden without being fought over by multiple covens?
Something wasn’t adding up about him.
But Atlas couldn’t think about it right now as Alpha Jacob crawled back to his feet at the other end of the restaurant. The Alpha sneered, bloodlusted eyes locked on Luther.
"You dare?!" He thundered, the air shaking. "In my turf? I’ll—"
"So much talk," Azrael raised a hand, causing shadows to sprout across the wall behind the Alpha, "for an untrained mutt." He clenched his fingers into a fist, turning those shadows into dark tendrils that wrapped Jacob.
Meanwhile, Silas placed an arm in front of Celeste who was still seated. Her eyes were closed. Not in an exhausted way... But like she was holding back a storm.
"You," one of the wolves grabbed Atlas by the collar all of a sudden, sticking out his claws and pointing them at his neck. "Tell your friend to let go of Alpha Jacob."
Atlas noticed the not-so-hidden fear in the wolf’s eyes. And the eyes of not just the other wolves... But every other soul in the restaurant.
Customers stuck to their seats, trying to hide their faces from Azrael. Others couldn’t look away, a few even drawing out phones.
"Who are those people facing Alpha Jacob and his men like that?" A male waiter asked out loud. "That witch even struck down his Beta so easily."
"Isn’t that Celeste Bloodoak? The Alpha King’s daughter." A female voice chirped this time.
"Huh? It can’t be. What would she be doing here with no security?"
"Those men seem to be ’secure’ enough... and madly attractive..."
"Wait—that’s Luther Hale! Alpha of the West Star pack."
"Oh my gosh, it is him."
Within seconds, their cover was blown and people recognised the most popular amongst them.
Atlas’s lips thinned into a grim line, eyes raking over the wolf who had him held.
Then—the air chilled, temperatures dropping so low their breaths came out as white mist. Magic sizzled in the air as all eyes turned to its source.
Celeste.
"Enough." She pushed Silas’ arm away, eyes glitching with a silver light. "Let him go."
She didn’t yell or stutter.
Almost instantly, the wolf holding Atlas let go of him. The witch would’ve been able to get rid of him easily. But seeing his mate coming to his aid brought an overwhelming pride to his chest.
At the same second, Azrael lowered his hand, releasing Alpha Jacob from his restraints. The young Alpha plopped to the marble ground, groaning.
Atlas felt it the second Azrael released him. That mercy was a mistake.
In a heartbeat, Alpha Jacob growled, black fur exploding all over his body. He shifted into a large wolf in a second, charging at the group.
"No!" Atlas backed away, magic ready to protect himself and Celeste if needed.
However, instead of any of them, the wolf pounced on Luther who was taken off guard. Blood splattered, a pained grunt leaving his mouth.
"Luther!" Celeste shouted as Luther was pushed several feet away, hands gripping the wolf’s monstrous paws.
Atlas’ heart stuttered.
Enraged, he swiped a hand at the remaining wolves. Stone petrified their feet, spreading up to their knees and rooting them in place. A telekinetic force kept their arms pinned to their sides as well.
"The police are here!" Someone shrieked through the pandemonium as all heads angled to Luther and Jacob’s scuffle.
Luther hadn’t shifted yet but quickly showed why he was revered as one of Europe’s most powerful Alphas.
He tightened his hold on the black wolf’s wrists, keeping his footing firm. With a roar, he lifted the wolf into the air, flinging him through the nearest glass wall.
Jacob rolled through the brick road, scaring off some pedestrians and slamming into a police vehicle that had just parked some distance away from the restaurant.
More police cars arrived, parking close to the restaurant. Officers—human and witch—hopped out of their vehicles, pulling out guns.
"Are you okay?" Celeste’s hand on his shoulder took Atlas by surprise, momentarily disorienting him.
He managed a reassuring nod. She smiled, brushing past him and heading to Luther whose shirt was soaked in his own blood.
Atlas eyes scanned the damage that the brief encounter had caused.
From the broken table and a still unconscious wolf lying on it. To the shattered glass wall and food scattered across the restaurant floor.
The temperature went back to normal as Celeste’s magic relaxed.
Even then, Atlas couldn’t help but ponder how chaos seemed to follow their unlikely group anywhere they went.
Today taught him something vital. There was no such thing as peace.
