Bab 7: Chapter 7: Breaking the Chains
The rooftop was quiet, the chill of the night air cutting through the silence. Adonis Creed stood at the edge, his sharp eyes scanning the faint lights of Beacon Hills below. The fight with the twins had left a mark—not just physically, though he could feel the ache in his muscles—but in the sense that something had shifted. He was more involved now than ever.
He hadn't planned on it. For weeks, he had stayed on the edges, observing, calculating, keeping his distance. But the moment Scott had thrown himself into the mess with the Alpha Pack, things had changed. Beacon Hills was different from anywhere else he'd been—it was alive with supernatural energy, and Adonis couldn't ignore it any longer.
He glanced over his shoulder at Scott, who was still leaning against the railing. The beta werewolf was deep in thought, his face tight with exhaustion. The pressure was on him, Adonis knew that much. Deucalion wanted Scott, and if they didn't stop him, he'd get what he wanted.
But that wasn't why Adonis had stayed. He could feel something else—something pulling at him, drawing him into this town like a force he couldn't resist.
Lydia.
Adonis wasn't one for attachments. He had learned long ago that getting close to people usually meant losing them. But Lydia was different. From the moment they'd met, there had been a connection, something unspoken but undeniable. He had seen the way she watched him, the curiosity in her eyes, the sharp intelligence that kept her one step ahead of everyone else. And despite himself, he had started to care.
But caring came with consequences. It always did.
He pushed the thought away, focusing on the task at hand. There were bigger things at stake. The Darach was out there, lurking in the shadows, and every moment they wasted brought it closer to completing its ritual. The tension in the air was suffocating.
Scott's voice broke through the silence. "Do you really think we can stop Deucalion?"
Adonis didn't turn around. "He's not invincible. You've already shown him that."
Scott exhaled sharply. "Yeah, but... it feels like every time we get close to a win, we're just delaying the inevitable."
Adonis finally turned, his eyes locking onto Scott's. "That's because Deucalion plays the long game. He's patient, and he's been doing this a lot longer than you. But he's also predictable."
Scott frowned. "Predictable how?"
Adonis's lips curved into a faint smile. "He's trying to break you. It's a tactic he's used before—wearing down his opponents, making them doubt themselves until they make a mistake. He wants you to feel powerless."
"And how do I stop that?"
Adonis crossed his arms, his expression thoughtful. "By remembering that you have something Deucalion doesn't. You're not alone. You've got people who believe in you—your pack, your friends. That's something Deucalion will never have."
Scott was quiet for a moment, processing the words. Then he nodded, though there was still doubt in his eyes. "Thanks."
Adonis didn't respond. He wasn't one for emotional speeches, but he could see that Scott needed a reminder of what he was fighting for.
Later that night, back in the loft, the tension remained thick. Isaac paced near the window, his frustration evident, while Stiles muttered to himself, scrolling through his phone for any possible lead on the Darach.
Allison, who had been sitting quietly beside Scott, finally stood up. "We need to start thinking about how to split our focus. We can't keep chasing both Deucalion and the Darach at the same time."
Scott rubbed his temples, clearly feeling the weight of leadership pressing down on him. "We can't afford to ignore either of them."
Adonis leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Allison's right. If we keep getting pulled in two directions, we'll lose. The Darach is working fast, and Deucalion's using that to his advantage. We need to prioritize."
"And what do you suggest?" Isaac asked, his voice sharp.
Adonis's eyes flicked toward him. "Focus on the Darach. Deucalion's patient—he won't make a move until he thinks he has the upper hand. The Darach, on the other hand, is already gaining power. The more sacrifices it makes, the stronger it gets."
Allison nodded, her brow furrowed in thought. "We need to stop the next sacrifice. But we still don't know where it's going to happen."
Adonis pushed off the wall, his expression serious. "We need to figure out where the Darach is drawing its power from. The places where the sacrifices happened—they're not random. Lydia's been looking into it."
Scott's gaze shifted toward the door. "I'll talk to her. She might have found something."
Lydia Martin sat at her desk, a notebook open in front of her, filled with neat handwriting and sketches of spirals and symbols. The weight of everything was starting to take its toll, and her mind was clouded with visions she couldn't fully understand. Being a banshee was both a curse and a gift—one that came with far more questions than answers.
Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen. A message from Scott: "We're coming over. I think you're onto something."
Lydia exhaled slowly, closing the notebook as she stood up. She knew they were getting closer, but every step forward felt like they were running out of time.
A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. She opened it to find Adonis, his usual calm expression masking whatever thoughts were running through his mind.
"Didn't expect you to show up first," Lydia said, raising an eyebrow.
Adonis stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room briefly before settling on her. "You've been working on the locations."
Lydia crossed her arms, watching him carefully. "And you've been keeping an eye on me."
Adonis smirked. "Someone has to."
Lydia rolled her eyes, though there was a flicker of amusement in her expression. "You know, I'm not as fragile as everyone seems to think."
"I don't think you're fragile," Adonis replied, his voice quieter now, more sincere. "I think you're strong. But even the strongest people need someone watching their back."
Lydia's gaze softened, just slightly. There was something about the way Adonis spoke, the way he looked at her, that made her feel like he saw more than just the surface. It was unsettling—and intriguing.
"Well," Lydia said, clearing her throat, "I've been working on the maps of the sacrifice sites. There's a pattern, but it's subtle. The Darach's been using places connected to the supernatural, like old druidic sites or locations where strange events have happened. I think I've narrowed down where the next one might be."
Adonis stepped closer, his eyes scanning the map she had laid out on the desk. "You're sure?"
Lydia nodded, her expression serious. "As sure as I can be. The energy in these places—it's connected to something ancient. The Darach is drawing power from it, but I think we can use that against them."
Adonis's eyes glinted with interest. "How?"
Lydia smirked. "By getting there first."
Back at the loft, Scott and the rest of the group were already preparing to move when Adonis and Lydia arrived. The sense of urgency was palpable, and there was no time to waste.
"We think we know where the next sacrifice is going to happen," Lydia said, stepping up to the table where the maps were spread out. "It's an old cemetery outside town. The place has a history of strange occurrences—it's connected to druidic rituals."
Isaac leaned over the map, his eyes narrowing. "You're sure?"
Lydia met his gaze, her confidence unwavering. "Yes."
Scott glanced at Adonis, who nodded in confirmation. "We need to move now," Scott said, his voice steady despite the tension. "If we're going to stop the Darach, this is our chance."
Adonis was already heading for the door, his movements quick and efficient. He could feel the weight of the coming battle, but his mind wasn't on the fight—it was on Lydia. She had come through for them again, and that only made his resolve stronger.
They weren't just fighting for survival anymore. They were fighting for each other.
The cemetery was quiet, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and old stone. As the group approached, they could feel the shift in the atmosphere—the tension that came with being close to something dark, something dangerous.
Scott led the way, his eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. Stiles followed close behind, his flashlight cutting through the darkness, while Allison kept her bow drawn, ready for anything.
Adonis moved silently at the back, his senses on high alert. He could feel it—the energy in the air, the pull of something ancient and powerful. The Darach was close. They were running out of time.
And then, from the shadows, came the sound of footsteps.
The group tensed, their eyes snapping toward the source of the sound as a figure stepped out from behind the trees.
It was Braeden.
The mercenary's expression was hard, her gun held low but ready. "You're too late," she said, her voice cold. "The Darach's already here."
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone