Mated to the Mad Lord-Chapter 250: Feral

The heavy gates slammed shut with a final, echoing boom, sealing out the unwelcome visitors.

Violet remained standing in place, her face unreadable, but her fingers twitched slightly at her sides. She had no illusions about what had just happened—their so-called warning was nothing but a thinly veiled threat. They would return, and next time, it wouldn’t be with words.

To her right, Henry stood with a rigid posture, his muscles coiled tight beneath his uniform. Though he was one of the most composed men she knew, there was just enough distance between them to suggest he was ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. Not out of cowardice, but survival instinct.

To her left, Uva was even farther away, her arms wrapped around herself, her gaze flickering between Cain’s beast and Violet as she recalled the broken remains of the doorway. If she moved any farther away, she might as well have been standing on the other side of the huge carpark.

Behind Violet, Cain’s beast loomed, standing unnervingly still despite the deep, guttural sounds rasping from his throat. His massive, hunched form cast a monstrous shadow under the dim light, and even though his eyes burned with that unnatural red glow, there was something else in them now. Obedience. Recognition.

Violet knew—felt—that the moment she took a step, he would follow.

That assurance had been her anchor throughout the confrontation, a silent, invisible shield that had kept her from appearing vulnerable in front of the Lords.

But that assurance shattered in the next instant.

A sudden, violent and sharp tremor ran through the beast’s body. It was subtle at first—a barely perceptible shudder of his massive frame, like something crawling beneath his skin. But then his head snapped to the side with an unnatural jerk, his mouth opening as a soundless snarl contorted his face.

Violet turned, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"Cain?" she murmured, uncertain.

And then he moved.

A sickening crack echoed through the air as Cain’s spine arched unnaturally, his claws digging into the stone beneath him hard enough to gouge deep, jagged trenches into it. The obedient, waiting presence was gone in an instant, replaced by something far more primal. The air grew thick with the sharp, metallic tang of bloodlust.

Henry stiffened, and Uva sucked in a sharp breath.

There was no time to react before Cain lunged.

A blur of black fur and muscle shot past Violet, and before she could so much as turn her head, a horrid, wet crunch filled the air.

A scream followed—raw, agonized, and choked with disbelief.

Henry.

Violet whirled around just in time to see him crash to the ground, his body rolling in a heap of limbs before he went unnaturally still. Blood gushed from his shoulder, staining the stone beneath him in dark, glistening pools.

For one horrifying second, Violet thought Cain had torn his entire arm off.

Henry let out a low, strangled groan, his hand pressing against the gaping wound as crimson seeped through his fingers. His healing was already beginning, but the sheer force of the wound kept it from sealing completely. He did not move closer. He did not try to fight.

He knew.

Cain had turned feral.

And he wasn’t done.

The beast let out a guttural snarl, his massive head whipping to the side, his burning gaze locking onto Uva.

She didn’t even have time to scream.

Cain lunged again, his claws slicing through the air in a blur. Uva’s body reacted before her mind could catch up, instinct forcing her to twist away. She stumbled back so violently that her foot caught on the uneven stone, sending her sprawling onto the ground with a muffled gasp.

The beast’s claws raked through the space where her head had been just a second before, slicing clean through the stone behind her instead. Dust and debris exploded into the air.

She scrambled back on all fours, gasping for breath, her mind blank with pure, unfiltered terror.

It didn’t make sense. He had been fine. He had been standing right behind them, waiting, watching.

And now he was going to kill them.

The realization hit her harder than the cold ground beneath her palms.

Cain was too far gone. This wasn’t just him losing control—this was a complete breakdown of what little restraint he had left.

Uva sucked in a trembling breath, but it hitched halfway, strangled by the panic constricting her throat.

A sharp, wet warmth spread between her legs.

She had pissed herself.

And she didn’t even care.

Her wide, horror-stricken eyes darted to Violet, pleading, searching for something—an answer, a solution, anything.

But Violet was frozen.

Cain turned his head then, and in the span of a breath, his focus locked onto her instead.

The world seemed to slow.

Violet barely had time to register it before the beast moved.

The impact never came.

The beast loomed over her, his massive form blocking out everything else.

His maw was open, his fangs glistening, his breath hot and ragged against her skin.

But he didn’t bite.

His body trembled. His claws flexed, but did not strike.

And then—hesitation.

Something flickered in those wild, glowing eyes. A flicker of recognition, so brief it was almost imperceptible.

Violet could hear the wet, ragged sounds of her own breathing, feel the tears slipping down her face as she stared up at the thing that had nearly devoured her

Silence pressed down on them like a thick, suffocating fog.

Cain was still, his massive form hunched over, claws dug into the earth as his ragged breath echoed through the empty courtyard. The air reeked of blood—Henry’s blood—its sharp, metallic tang thick on Violet’s tongue. Her body trembled, not from the cold, but from the ghost of Cain’s fangs nearly sinking into her flesh.

The worst part wasn’t the attack itself. It was the way he had stopped.

Recognition had flickered in his glowing red eyes at the last possible moment, the madness retreating just enough for hesitation to slip through. But it wasn’t enough.

The fear that had lodged itself in her chest refused to fade.

She stumbled backward, her breath shaky, her pulse roaring in her ears. The beast did not move, did not even lift its head. Cain—if there was any part of him left—was fighting whatever had taken over. But that didn’t change the fact that he had almost torn them apart.

He had almost killed her.

A strangled sound—half a whimper, half a sob—drew Violet’s attention to her left.

Uva was still on the ground, knees tucked to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her entire body trembled violently, her breath coming in short, frantic gasps. A dark stain spread across the front of her dress, the unmistakable scent of urine mixing with the iron tang of blood.

She had pissed herself.

Uva, who had never flinched in battle, who had watched others bleed without a second thought, had been reduced to this—a shaking, gasping mess—by the sheer terror of nearly being ripped apart.

Violet swallowed hard.

A sharp, wet cough reminded her that Henry was still bleeding.

Her gaze snapped to him. He was slumped on one knee, his hand clamped tightly over the torn mess of his shoulder. Blood seeped between his fingers in thick rivulets, dripping steadily onto the stone beneath him. His face was pale, his jaw clenched, but his golden eyes burned with something unreadable as they remained.

She had never been scared of him before.

Never.

Not when he was feared by the other Lords. Not when people whispered of his savagery in hushed voices. Not even when she knew he was a beast.

But now—

A part of her knew it wasn’t his fault, that something was wrong with him. But that didn’t stop the tremor in her hands, the instinctive step she took backward.

Cain let out a deep, guttural sound, his body shifting slightly forward as if to follow—

"No," Violet breathed, her voice trembling.

Cain froze.

The red glow in his eyes flickered, dimming for just a second.

It wasn’t enough.

The beast lowered its head, pressing its snout into the dirt, but the sharp tremors in its limbs betrayed the struggle within. He was fighting it. The instincts, the rage, the thing that had made him feral.

Violet pressed a hand to her mouth, her breathing shallow.

Then Henry moved.

The soft shuffle of his boot against the stone was all it took.

Cain’s head snapped toward him, fangs bared.

The tension shattered.

Henry barely had time to react before the beast lunged—

Violet didn’t think. She acted.

"STOP!"

Her voice rang out, sharp and desperate, but it wasn’t just her voice. Something else rippled through the air—a force she didn’t understand.

Cain stopped.

His massive body jerked mid-motion, his claws scraping against the ground, leaving deep gouges in the stone. His muscles strained, his entire body trembling from the sheer effort of holding himself back.

His red eyes flickered again.

Recognition.

Violet’s breath caught in her throat.

It wasn’t enough to soothe the terror lodged in her chest, but it was something. freeweɓnovel.cøm

Uva let out a strangled sob, still gasping for breath, her hands clutching at her own arms as if trying to keep herself from falling apart.

Henry exhaled harshly, sweat dripping down his forehead. His wound had already started to close, but he didn’t dare move.

The beast let out a low, mournful sound, its ears flattening against its skull.

It was apologizing.

Cain—if it was still Cain—was sorry.

But Violet couldn’t find it in herself to step forward.

She wanted to.

She wanted to tell him it was okay, that they would fix this, that she wasn’t afraid.

But she was.

And when she took another step back, putting just a little more distance between them, Cain’s eyes dimmed further.

A painful, wordless understanding passed between them before Violet turned to Uva instead, whose wide, fearful eyes met hers with something Violet hadn’t seen before.

Desperation.

Uva had thought she could wait—wait to see what happened, wait to decide her next move. But now, she understood.

Cain losing control didn’t just mean danger.

It meant disaster.

For all of them.

And for the first time since she had decided to stay, Uva realized—

She had to do something.

Before it was too late.