Read My Werewolf Boyfriend :: The Silver Trap

The flickering beam of Owen's flashlight danced across the jagged walls of the silver mine, casting eerie shadows that seemed to move on their own. He stood in the darkness, his breath visible in the cold, damp air. The cave was silent, save for the occasional drip of water that echoed like a ticking clock. Owen clenched his fists, the weight of years of resentment pressing down on him. Tonight, it all ends.

He had planned this meticulously, planting the rumor that the cave held secrets about Emma’s lineage—a tantalizing bait for Henry’s insatiable curiosity. And just as Owen had predicted, Henry had taken the bait, marching into the cave with his usual arrogance, his lackeys trailing behind like obedient hounds.

From his hidden vantage point, Owen watched as Henry and his men entered the narrow passage. The silver ore embedded in the walls glinted faintly, its subtle radiation already beginning to sap Henry’s strength. Owen’s lips curled into a cold smile. "Let’s see how well you handle this, old friend."

Henry paused, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings. "This place reeks of desperation," he sneered, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Owen’s always been a coward, hiding in the shadows. If he’s here, he’ll regret it."

One of his men, a burly figure named Carl, shifted uneasily. "Boss, this doesn’t feel right. The air’s... heavy. Maybe we should—"

"Shut it, Carl," Henry snapped, his tone cutting like a knife. "We’re not leaving until I find what I came for. Owen’s playing games, but I’m done with his theatrics."

Owen’s grip tightened on the silver dagger at his side. "Games, Henry? No. This is justice."

As Henry and his men ventured deeper into the cave, the walls seemed to close in around them. The silver ore’s effect became more pronounced, and Henry’s steps faltered. He leaned against the wall, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "What the hell is going on?" he growled, his voice strained.

Carl reached out to steady him. "Boss, we need to get out of here. This place is—"

"Not yet," Henry interrupted, his eyes blazing with determination. "Owen’s here. I can feel it. And when I find him, he’s dead."

From the shadows, Owen stepped forward, his figure illuminated by the faint glow of the silver ore. "Looking for me, Henry?"

Henry’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. "So, the coward finally shows himself. What’s the matter, Owen? Couldn’t face me like a man?"

Owen’s smile was cold and devoid of humor. "I’m facing you now, Henry. And this time, you’re not walking away."

The tension in the cave was palpable, the air thick with unspoken threats. Owen’s hand tightened on the dagger, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it. The moment he’d been waiting for. The moment he’d sacrifice everything for.

Henry straightened, his expression a mask of defiance. "You think you can beat me, Owen? You’re nothing but a traitor, a snake in the grass."

"Maybe," Owen replied, his voice steady. "But even a snake can strike when cornered. And tonight, Henry, you’re the one who’s cornered."

The flickering neon light from Owen’s flashlight reflected off the silver blade as he raised it, the cold metal gleaming with deadly intent. The cave seemed to hold its breath, the silence broken only by the sound of Henry’s labored breathing.

Owen’s heart raced, but his mind was clear. This was his chance. His revenge. And he wouldn’t let it slip away.

"Let’s finish this, Henry," Owen said, his voice low and resolute. "Once and for all."

Henry’s eyes burned with fury, but there was a flicker of something else—fear, perhaps, or uncertainty. He took a step forward, his fists clenched. "Bring it on, Owen. Let’s see who walks out of here alive."

The two men stood facing each other, the weight of their shared history hanging in the air like a storm about to break. The cave was their arena, the silver their judge. And as the first blow was struck, the echoes of their clash reverberated through the darkness, a symphony of vengeance and retribution.

Owen’s mind raced as he dodged Henry’s attack, the silver dagger flashing in his hand. He had waited so long for this moment, and now that it was here, he felt a strange calm settle over him. This was his fight. His destiny.

And he wouldn’t back down. Not now. Not ever.

The flickering torchlight in the cavern cast long, jagged shadows on the damp stone walls. Owen stood over Henry, his uncle’s face pale and twisted in fear, the glint of a knife in Owen’s hand. The air was thick with tension, the kind that could snap at any moment.

“You think you deserve this family?” Owen’s voice was low, almost a growl. “After what you did to my father?”

Henry choked out a laugh, though it was strained. “You think you’re any better? You’re just a boy playing at being a king.”

Before Owen could respond, a voice echoed through the cavern. “Owen, stop!” It was Lily, her voice trembling as she stepped into the light, her face streaked with tears. “Don’t do this. You’ll never be able to live with yourself.”

Owen turned to her, his expression cold. “Live with myself? You’ve been living with your lies for years, Mother. Don’t pretend to care now.”

Lily froze, her breath catching. “What… what are you talking about?”

“I know,” Owen said, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “I know you and Henry plotted to kill my father. Did you think I’d never find out?”

Lily’s knees buckled, and she sank to the ground, her hands covering her face. “Oh God, Owen… I’m so sorry. I was weak, I was scared—”

“You were selfish,” Owen snapped, his grip tightening on the knife. “You betrayed him. You betrayed me.”

“Please,” Lily begged, her voice breaking. “Killing him won’t bring David back. It’ll just make you a murderer. The family will never follow you if you’re stained with blood.”

Owen hesitated, his eyes flickering between Lily and Henry. The cavern seemed to close in around them, the weight of his decision pressing down like the stone above.

“You think I care about the family?” Owen finally said, his voice quieter now, almost a whisper. “This isn’t about them. This is about justice.”

“Justice?” Lily’s voice was a mix of desperation and disbelief. “This isn’t justice, Owen. This is revenge. And revenge will consume you.”

Owen’s jaw tightened, his resolve wavering for the first time. The knife in his hand seemed heavier now, the torchlight reflecting off its edge. He glanced down at Henry, who was watching him with a mixture of fear and defiance.

The flickering neon light from the cavern walls cast eerie shadows on the cold, damp stone floor. Lily stood in the center, her breath shallow, her heart pounding like a war drum.

Henry, her once-beloved, now her greatest enemy, stood just a few feet away, his eyes narrowed with suspicion but still softened by the remnants of love he couldn’t quite extinguish.

"Lily," he said, his voice low, almost tender. "You’ve always been a master of deception. What’s your game this time?"

She took a step closer, her hands trembling slightly, though her voice remained steady. "No games, Henry. Not this time. I just... I need you to understand. I need you to feel what I’ve felt."

Henry’s lips curled into a bitter smile. "Feel? You think I haven’t felt enough? You turned my son against me, Lily. You turned my life into a warzone."

"And you turned me into this," she shot back, her voice cracking. "You made me a monster. But tonight, it ends. Not with more bloodshed, but with... closure."

She closed the distance between them, her arms wrapping around him in a desperate embrace. For a moment, Henry hesitated, his body stiff, but then he melted into her, his hands gripping her back as if he could hold onto the past. "Lily," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I never wanted this. Any of it."

"Neither did I," she whispered, her fingers brushing against the hilt of the silver blade hidden in the folds of her coat.

In one swift motion, she plunged the blade into his heart, the silver searing through flesh and bone. Henry gasped, his eyes wide with shock and betrayal. But Lily didn’t let go. She tightened her grip, the blade piercing her own chest as well, their bodies locked together in a final, fatal embrace.

"Forgive me," she whispered, her voice barely audible as their strength waned. "For everything."

Owen, standing in the shadows, watched in stunned silence. His heart raced, a storm of emotions raging within him—vengeance, relief, sorrow, and a strange, hollow emptiness. He stepped forward, his boots crunching against the gravel, but he said nothing. The cavern was silent now, save for the faint drip of water echoing in the distance.

As the life drained from their bodies, Owen knelt beside them, his fingers brushing the hilt of the silver sword. "You both thought you were doing the right thing," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret. "But all you did was leave me with more questions than answers."

The flickering light dimmed, casting the cavern into darkness. Owen rose to his feet, his mind already racing with the implications of what he’d just witnessed. Somewhere in the shadows, a faint glimmer caught his eye—a small, engraved locket lying near Lily’s lifeless hand. He picked it up, his fingers tracing the intricate design. Inside, a single word was etched: Erebus.

Owen’s jaw tightened. "What the hell have you gotten me into now?" he muttered, slipping the locket into his pocket.

The silence of the cavern pressed in around him, heavy and suffocating, as he turned and walked away, the weight of his parents’ legacy—and their secrets—bearing down on his shoulders.

The neon light flickered once more, then went out, leaving only the darkness and the echoes of a tragedy that would haunt Owen for the rest of his days.