The Alpha’s Forbidden Valkyrie

Chapter 17

Freya’s POV

I had never woken up so peacefully. Under the black down comforter, enveloped in Jax's scent, my body finally got the rest it had longed for so desperately. The exhaustion settled within me like a dull, thick fog, and for a single moment, in that quiet, predawn gloom, I believed the nightmares were over.

Then the silence was torn to shreds by a single, bloodcurdling sound.

A deep, drawn-out wolf howl sliced through the air. There was nothing peaceful about it; this sound was a pure, raw alarm. A warning from the border of the territory. Before the howl died away, a second one answered from the distance, then a third.

Jax, who had been sleeping in an armchair next to my bed—respecting my wounds and my boundaries—sprang up in a fraction of a second. There was no trace of sleepiness in his movement. The eyes he turned toward me were no longer the dark irises of the understanding man. They blazed with a pure, brilliant golden light. The beast, the pack leader, had taken control.

"They're here," he growled, and his voice came from so deep it made the windowpane rattle.

My throat went instantly dry. The air caught in my lungs.

My clan. The trackers. My father.

Panic wrapped around my chest like icy arms. My heart beat against my ribs so violently it almost hurt. I sat up in bed, clutching the blanket convulsively. I remembered the darkness of the cellar, the clinking of silver chains, and the sound of whip cracks. And now they had brought this hell here. To Jax's home. I had brought death upon the people who had taken me in.

Meanwhile, Jax threw his clothes on with quick, frantic movements. He pulled on his boots and threw the leather vest bearing the pack's emblem over his shoulders. His muscles were tense to the point of snapping, his rage practically palpable in the air.

Footsteps thundered down the hallway, then the door flew open. Silas stood there, panting.

"Alpha! The northern border guards have signaled. Something broke through the line. Not wolves, and not humans. Their scent is... dead."

"How many are there?" Jax snapped, buckling a massive, black-hilted knife to his belt.

"We don't know yet. But they're fast. Too fast."

Silas shot me one last, tense look before disappearing through the door.

Jax turned around and stepped straight to the bed. His authority and the tension radiating from him were oppressive.

"Freya!" he bellowed, his voice cracking like a whip across the room. He leaned over me, bracing himself on the mattress. He wasn't hurting me, but his proximity and his eyes burning with golden fire were terrifying. "You fled in the dark, the rain washed away your scent! A simple tracker vampire could never have found the way to the heart of our territory in a single night. How did they find you so quickly?! What do you know?!"

Terror flooded my mind, but not for myself. Jax's pack was out in the woods right now, waiting for the monsters who had tortured me for weeks. I felt no loyalty to my bloodline. Only raw, destructive hatred that they wanted to ruin even this sanctuary. The man who had saved me yesterday, bathed me, and hadn't left my side for a single minute was now going to war for me. I couldn't let him blindly rush to his death.

I locked onto his gaze and gathered every remaining ounce of my strength.

"Blood magic," I gasped, as my memory frantically searched through my clan's secrets. "They aren't following my scent, Jax. My father is using my blood. When they tortured me in the dungeons... they kept some of my blood. A witch is guiding them. As long as they have that vial, they know exactly where I am, and they'll never lose my trail. They will be led straight here!"

Jax's eyes widened as the strategic information registered in his mind. His anger didn't vanish, but it suddenly transformed into a sharp, ice-cold focus.

"Tell me everything!" he commanded. "What do they fight with? How do we kill them?"

"They aren't coming with firearms, my clan is too arrogant for that," I babbled, grabbing the edge of his t-shirt as if I could protect him with it. "They fight in close combat. They use long knives and chains forged from titanium and pure silver, made specifically to kill werewolves. A single cut from that metal, and your wolves won't be able to heal. Please, tell them not to get close!"

Jax's face hardened. His hand, resting on the mattress, clenched into a fist.

"What is their weakness, Freya? How do we stop this?"

"Their leader! The head of the tracker team carries my blood!" I said firmly, my tears finally spilling over from terror. "If you kill the one with the vial, the magic breaks. They will be blind in your territory."

Jax slowly nodded. He had become a true, ruthless commander. Through the bond, I felt not a single drop of fear in him—only a raw, overwhelming protective instinct for me, and a destructive wrath toward those who wanted to harm me.

He rose from the bed. His gaze locked onto mine for one last, deep second, and his hand quickly, soothingly stroked my face.

"Lock yourself in here," he ordered softly, but leaving no room for argument. "Do not come out, no matter what you hear. No one gets through this door as long as I am alive. I promised you would be safe, and I keep my f*****g promises."

With that, he turned and rushed out of the room. In the hallway, I heard him roaring at Silas, issuing the orders to avoid the silver weapons and eliminate the carrier of the blood magic.

I remained there alone on the bed, in the t-shirt steeped in Jax's scent. I trembled as the pack's unified, belligerent battle cry roared in the distance.

I remembered my father. I remembered the guards laughing while they beat my back. I was never a part of their clan; I had always been nothing but a reject in their eyes.

I pulled my knees to my chest and listened to the approaching storm outside. I no longer felt fear about betraying them. Only one thought occupied my mind: I hoped with all my heart that my pack would tear every last one of them to shreds.