The Alpha's Four Hidden Heirs (Natalie and Samuel) novel Chapter 128

**The City That Drowned in the Sound of Its Own Heartbeat**
**by Erynd Cal DusK**
**Chapter 128**

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Alpha Samuel Bowers stood before me, his presence commanding, yet my frustration simmered just beneath the surface.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, striving to keep my voice steady, to suppress the anger that bubbled within me. I was not a child to be spoken to in such a condescending manner.

“I mean,” he began, his tone shifting to something more composed, “if this is what we think it is, capturing whoever is behind this will not be a straightforward task.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

“And what leads you to that conclusion?” I pressed, my curiosity piqued despite my irritation.

“Because I’ve studied this extensively,” he replied, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. “I run the most renowned training centers for wolves, and my success isn’t merely due to my combat skills; it stems from the vast knowledge I’ve accumulated over the years.”

“So, you’re familiar with the ritual?” I asked, seeking clarity, and he nodded, his expression serious.

“But do you know who orchestrates it?” I inquired, my gaze unwavering. His eyes narrowed, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features.

“No, I do not,” he responded curtly.

“Then that doesn’t change anything,” I countered, frustration creeping into my tone. “I acknowledge that I lack understanding of this ritual, but I have devised a plan, and I am confident it will succeed.”

He nodded slowly, though skepticism lingered in his eyes.

“Yes, you might be able to catch the individual who approached Jack, but I assure you, he will merely be a pawn in this game. He won’t know who truly pulls the strings,” he remarked, his words stoking the fire of my anger. How could he dismiss my ideas so easily while offering no alternatives of his own?

“That’s acceptable to me. I’ll keep climbing until I reach the top,” I snapped, my resolve hardening.

“What if it’s too late by that point?” he shot back, his voice laced with concern.

“You keep undermining my thoughts, so why don’t you share your own?” I challenged, crossing my arms defiantly.

“It’s quite simple, really. We find something he desires, and we use it to lure him out,” he stated, as if the solution were as easy as pie.

“Alright, let’s assume we proceed with your plan. What’s stopping him or her from just sending another pawn, as you call them?” I retorted, my frustration boiling over. He snarled, clearly irritated by my persistence.

He merely smirked, a knowing glint in his eyes. “That’s the narrative we’ve been fed. The grimoires, texts, scrolls—everything related to that particular subject was destroyed to ensure no one would ever uncover the truth.”

“But somehow, you have the knowledge?” I pressed, intrigued.

“Because there exists a diary that has been passed down through my family. That’s how I learned the truth. The story we were told was that a coalition of witches and wolves sought immortality, committing unspeakable acts to achieve it. Ultimately, they were thwarted when witches and werewolves decided to collaborate for the first time in centuries. However, the reality is that they were trying to open a door to the other side, to release someone.”

My mind raced as I processed his words, confusion swirling within me. “Can you please speak plainly and get to the point?” I implored, feeling the weight of urgency.

“The first witch—the one who created the werewolf curse—this entire ritual is designed to resurrect her from the other side. She possesses the true power to grant immortality. It is said she had already discovered the secret, which is precisely why she was killed—to prevent her from using it on herself.”

He paused, allowing the gravity of his revelation to settle.

“Okay, so let me clarify,” I began, piecing together the fragments of his explanation. “The ritual isn’t about attaining immortality; rather, it’s about opening a gateway to the other side to unleash a deranged witch who knows the spell for immortality. Is that correct?”

“Yes, that is accurate,” he confirmed, his expression grave.

Dread washed over me. He was right—this was far more significant than I had ever anticipated.