The Play-Toy Of Three Lycan Kings-Chapter 367: Night Walks II

I froze. What the hell? Did I just...

Slowly, I turned.

Darius stood a few feet away, dusting off his hands like he’d simply stepped through a casual doorway instead of ripping through a witch-warded teleportation fold.

"How—"

He grinned, smug and infuriating. "You think you’re the only one who knows how to bend space? I’m old, Sage. You think your little witch spells are enough to bar me?"

I didn’t like the way he said my name—soft, certain, like he’d peeled back the mask I wore and seen the real skin underneath.

And Saints, I was so tired of him. Tired of his existence. Tired of his inconvenient intelligence, his ancient instincts, his ability to smell the lies I kept buried.

"How old are you anyway?!" I hissed, gritting my teeth. How can one person annoy you so much?

He shrugged. "A hundred and thirty... not much truly. I’m still a youngling in the age of my people."

My mouth fell open. A hundred and thirty? And he called himself a teenager? What then was their lifespan?

"You claim to have read about us... surely you would have known that we are nearly immortal... well we are that most times."

I swallowed. Near immortal. I had fought against one and won. Might have jubilated, had he not mentioned the disadvantage of the abstenum.

He has lived more than a century, and yet he looked like this?

I shook my head, getting rid of the diverse thoughts. One thing I needed to focus on only. I need to get rid of him. Never mind his advantages!

I’d been repeating that since the day we fought. It was fast becoming a mantra.

And tonight—when I needed to move quietly, precisely, toward the next step of my plan—he was the last thing I needed. What could I do?

My thoughts tangled around themselves, each one whispering the same ugly truth: If Darius stayed in this region much longer, everything I’d planned—everything I’d bled for—would crumble.

I was still calculating ten different ways to shake him when his voice interjected sharply into my spiraling.

"So." He clasped his hands behind his back. "Do we intend to stay here? Because if so, we’ll be caught in about fifteen seconds."

"What?" I snapped.

"Someone’s approaching from the hut."

Immediately—instinctively—I dissolved into mist.

Darius chuckled as if this were all entertainment to him, then he joined me, his shadow-like vapor swirling beside mine. Even his mist form felt older, heavier, like the echo of a storm trapped in smoke.

Peter stepped out of the hut moments later, sharp, alert, scanning the trees.

Laura joined him, robe wrapped around her shoulders. "Did you feel it too?" she whispered. "The magic. The runes being used."

Peter nodded grimly. "Yes. It was recent."

My lungs squeezed—even though I technically didn’t have lungs in mist-form. I hadn’t expected Laura to be awake, nor Peter to be so attuned.

Darius drifted closer, brushing against me like cold breath.

Get away from me, I thought viciously.

But we remained silent as Peter and Laura started toward the runic point where I’d landed.

Only when their footsteps faded deeper into the woods did I glide away, and Darius followed effortlessly. Together, we swept like twin shadows toward the forest—the one place I absolutely didn’t want him: the woods hiding the forbidden library.

When we solidified among the thick ancient trees, the night pressed around us, dense and deep as old magic.

Darius took one look around, then at me.

"What’s your relationship to that man?" he asked. "I felt something between you two. A connection."

I ignored him.

What was the need of giving him an answer?

I rather looked around the forest, allowing it to hit me with waves of memories.

I hadn’t been here in years.

The trees were as I remembered: towering giants with trunks dark as midnight, the leaves dense enough to swallow moonlight whole. Their branches curled like protective arms, weaving a canopy that trapped heat and breath.

The air smelled rich—loam, damp moss, old spell residue. The kind of aliveness that made the air feel awake, aware.

Every witch child who had ever stepped foot here knew this forest wasn’t merely a place. It was a presence.

Darius tilted his head. "Is this where you grew up?"

I still didn’t answer. Instead, I moved forward, finding the faint trail half-hidden under roots and weeds. Each step felt like I was walking back into a life I’d shut the door on six years ago.

"Are you planning to keep pretending I’m not here?" he asked, tone dry.

"Preferably forever," I muttered.

I should have dealt with him. Should have ended him right here, in this forest that would enhance my magic. But I needed every inch of strength to lower the forbidden library’s shield... and recasting it afterward would drain me further.

I couldn’t risk a fight now. Makeh wasn’t here to help—like she used to, those years ago when she’d stand beside me under moonlight, murmuring the old words while I dragged my trembling magic into place—and neither were the Quafars.

I didn’t want to remember those nights. But my traitorous memory brought them back anyway.

Darius asked again, "What are we doing here?"

I ignored him.

He repeated the question, more firmly. "Sage."

I exhaled a sharp breath. "Fine. I’m here to find what can kill you, apart from taking the ring away. Maybe the archives of the dark mage have something useful."

He laughed loud and unrestrained, until he noticed the flatness in my expression.

The amusement drained from his face.

"You’re serious."

"Yes."

"Sage..." His voice softened, shifting into something like concern. "I’m not the one who needs killing. The vampires are. Whatever debt you owe them, whatever you think you’re bound to—it can be dealt with without bringing this whole land to ruin."

Something in my chest twisted.

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know about the abstenum hidden under the wolf region.

If the ancients learned about it, they’d tear through the supernatural world to keep it from vampire hands, to keep it in their own hands, to enjoy the sunlight like the other supernaturals.

When he added, casually, "I’ve already sent word to my family about the undead moving in this region," my entire body went cold.

He was summoning them.

Summoning more ancients.

My stomach plummeted. My plan trembled violently.

I clamped my mouth shut. I just have to be done with the triplets before they arrive!

We emerged into a clearing where a cave mouth lay half-hidden behind vines and stone. The warded entrance to the forbidden library. Darius’s brows rose.

"That is where we’re going?"

I nodded.

But before we could take a single full step—

A sudden wind slammed into us.

Not a breeze.

Not air.

A force like a hurricane descending from nowhere.

We were thrown off our feet and dragged across the forest floor, spiraling downward as the ground swallowed us whole. The world spun—earth, roots, stone—until everything dissolved into darkness.

When the tumbling stopped, I blinked dirt and dust from my eyes.

A familiar figure stood in front of me.

"Hello, Sage," Makeh said.

I staggered to my feet, dusting off my clothes. The sight of her punched breath from my lungs.

She looked exactly the same.

Six years had passed for me—but none for her.

Same delicate features, same ageless skin, same sharp eyes that saw too much. Her hair was still bound in that loose knot at the base of her neck. She could have stepped right out of the last night we saw each other.

Six years. And not a day on her. She was just like the ancients!

Darius stood, glancing upward. "What... was that? Where are we? Is that really the sky, or an illusion?"

He could see it too—the wide open sky directly above us, even though we’d been dragged underground. Another pocket realm. Makeh’s signature style.

I ignored him and glared at her. "Why did you bring me here?"

She didn’t answer.

Darius tried again. "Who is she? And what exactly—"

Silence.

The two of us—Makeh and I—stared at each other, and the old tension crackled like a live wire between us. Six years of unfinished words, of secrets we had chosen to bury in separate graves.

Footsteps broke the quiet.

Three Quafars stepped out from behind the glowing trees of this pocket realm. Their eyes glowed faintly green.

One of them stepped forward—the same one who’d saved me years ago.

"Maya," he called, using the old tone of familiarity.

My chest warmed for a heartbeat—but I hid it quickly, forcing my expression blank.

"Why am I here?" I repeated to Makeh. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

Makeh shrugged lightly, already turning away. "You’ll see."

No explanation.

No apology.

Just the same infuriating calm she’d always had.

Darius stared between us, baffled. "What is happening? What is this place? And why are you called Maya?"

I ignored him again.

Frustration boiled in my veins.

Was my plan unraveling?

Was everything I’d built beginning to crack?

And worst of all—El was silent.

Again.

Not a whisper, not a nudge.

Nothing.

My fists clenched.

"Fine," I hissed, stomping after Makeh with anger scraping my throat raw.