Chapter 78: _Not A Bloody Priest
Luther’s POV
*****
8:25 pm, Crimson Expanse audience section
After the madness that happened tonight... His mate and ex-girlfriend kissing his brother in front of the entire academy was not something he had expected.
Still there they were.
Him, watching from the stands like a betrayed pup. And they—in each other’s arms, with enough chemistry to make heads turn and people gasp.
"Do my eyes deceive me?" A girl behind him asked, brushing past to get a closer look. "Oh my gods! Silas Hale is kissing Celeste?"
"Huh?" Another girl chimed in. "The same girl who was all over that new guy barely a week ago?"
"Azrael Vaelmont... I thought they were dating or something."
"Me too."
"I’m so confused right now."
The academy had been celebrating the winners of the Blood Trials. But now? All attention was shifted to Celeste and his own brother, most of the comments being more curious than negative.
His fists clenched so hard that bones cracked.
’You do remember Silas is her mate too, right?’ His wolf mumbled in his head. ’Admit it. You fumbled. Hard. Celeste simply chose someone who wasn’t caught in her bed cheating.’
Luther growled mentally. ’But we’ve proven that wasn’t my fault! It was Lysandra’s spell!’
’And what have you done to fix that?’
At the mention of her, he spun his head back. Lysandra stood a few seats behind him, arms folded in front of her chest and expression stiff.
Her minions stood beside her this time, whispering and seemingly trying to cheer up her mood.
They’d have to try harder really soon.
Turning on his heel, Luther advanced up the steps, drifting past the applause, claps and gossip. "Lysandra." He called out when he was close, watching her neck move toward him slowly.
A frown knitted her brows when he got in front of her. "W–What now?" She dared to question. "I confessed already. Don’t tell me you’re trying to make another scene now. I’m exhausted and—"
"You weren’t ’exhausted’ when you placed that fucking spell on me." He inched forward until their faces almost met. Far from intimate. "So no, Lysandra. I’m not letting you off the hook. I’m not a bloody priest."
Almost instantly, her hesitant almost remorseful demeanour shifted into something cold.
’Ah. She’s back to her true form.’ his wolf sniggered as she leaned down until their noses touched.
"You want me to break the curse?" She asked the obvious. "Fine. I will. But not tonight. I need rest and—"
"Save your excuses for your lap dogs." Luther snorted, barely sparing her friends a disdainful glance. His voice lowered. "Other than breaking the spell, you need to tell me—who helped you with it??"
He’d tried getting that answer earlier... But then she stalled until the Vein beasts attacked. Convenient timing.
Now he was back for answers and he wanted them dropped swiftly.
"Why the heck do you want to know?" Lysandra’s voice rose, features twisting. "I’ll break the spell tomorrow but for now leave me be, Luther. You can crawl back to—"
"He deserves to know, Lysandra." A baritone he didn’t expect defending him in a million years resounded just then. "And unless you want all this reaching the Dean’s ears you’d better start talking."
Luther pulled away a couple of feet from Lysandra while the voice’s owner got beside him. Calm. Composed. His golden eyes already calculating.
Atlas Stormwood.
"You..." Lysandra’s breath hitched. "Aren’t you supposed to be down there with the other winners?"
The witch’s gaze slid to Luther before he faced Lysandra fully. "I’ve already taken my award. But nice try."
She opened her mouth, ready to draw this further.
Unfortunately for her, Atlas’s patience seemed thin tonight. "Taking away a man’s free will is despicable. An Alpha nonetheless. Anyone capable of helping you with such a powerful spell and even encouraging you to use it... Deserves what’s coming to her."
Magic coiled in the air around them, electric and tense. Even Luther felt like holding his breath, watching the way Lysandra’s face distorted past numerous expressions.
"People are watching us, Lysandra." Atlas pressed. "Celeste doesn’t know about this yet. If you wish to keep it that way I suggest you sing like a sparrow or—"
"I don’t know what?"
Bloody hell...
’Mate!’ his wolf jumped excitedly. ’She’s right behind us. Look—gods damnit, turn around and take her in, you blockhead!’
Everyone present—including Luther—spun around to see who asked the question.
Celeste—hand in hand with Silas whose hazel eyes were unreadable. They approached together but hesitantly, the latter locking eyes with his brother only for a breath.
"It’s nothing to bother yourself with, little fire." Atlas tried to reassure. "Just head back to the academy and relax. You’ve had a long night."
Of course, Celeste didn’t give up. "No, Atlas." She shook her head, gaze sweeping past all their faces. "We’ve all had a long night. Whatever you all were talking about clearly involves me. And..."
She paused, eyes narrowing with realisation. Looking between Luther and Silas, she queried. "You two know about whatever this is. Don’t you?"
Silas’ face flashed with guilt while Luther couldn’t even keep eye contact with her.
He should’ve spoken out. Should’ve been all happy to tell her his actions all this time were influenced by a deceptive spell. Or that the bond somehow helped him get clarity.
Yet staring into her eyes even for a second brought back a wave of guilt.
’You kids always make things so complicated.’ his wolf sighed.
Meanwhile, Lysandra sneered. "What is this? Some kind of intervention?" She glared at every single one of them. "And so what if I cast a love spell on Luther? I’m not the first to use magic to get what they want."
Luther witnessed the exact moment Celeste’s face fell. "You... You what?"
"Enough of this." Atlas flicked his wrist suddenly, eyes flaring with a golden light. "Tell us who helped with that spell. By the spirits, if you don’t speak now, I’ll extract and broadcast your deepest, darkest secrets to the entire academy."
People gathered around but kept their distance, many staring at Atlas in a mix of fear and awe.
Lysandra still had guts but it was fracturing. "You won’t dare—"
"Test me, Lysandra."
Time seemed to halt, each second more suffocating than the last.
Although he wasn’t an expert on witches... He’s seen Atlas in action. He was definitely capable of doing what he said he would with deadly precision.
Eventually, Lysandra broke. "Fine! Wait..." She pleaded, teeth gritted. "It... It was my mother. She helped with the spell."
The words settled for several seconds.
And still Luther couldn’t believe what he heard.
There’s... No way...
It’s impossible.
"But Lysandra," Natasha spoke for the first time. "Your mother died years ago."
