The Alpha’s Forbidden Valkyrie

Chapter 20

Freya’s POV

The world around the clubhouse had completely changed by the time the sun rose. I watched from the bedroom window as the pack's territory transformed overnight from a quiet forest retreat into a bustling, chaotic military camp. The continuous, deep rumble of motorcycles shook the windowpanes. Jax’s men mounted their bikes one after another, following the Alpha's orders to scatter across the state and mobilize the distant members of the pack, as well as the allied clans.

A thick, metallic tension vibrated in the air, but I was no longer afraid of it. Jax's blood pulsed in my veins, warm and strong, keeping the Valkyrie magic that had nearly consumed me the night before in balance.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. Before I could answer, the handle pressed down, and a woman stepped into the room.

She wasn't a stone-cold, leather-clad warrior like the ones I had seen so far. The woman must have been in her fifties, her hair pulled into a thick, silvery bun, and her face was full of kind but firm laugh lines. She held a black medical bag in her hand. Her eyes, smart, hazel wolf eyes, immediately settled on me.

"Good morning, Luna," she greeted softly, bowing her head with a small, respectful nod. My stomach still tied in a knot for a split second at the title, but she said it with such naturalness, as if I had been called that my whole life. "My name is Elara. I am the pack's head doctor. Jax sent me to check your wounds before we leave."

"A doctor?" I asked in surprise, pulling away from the windowsill. "I thought wolves... well, healed quickly."

Elara smiled as she opened her bag on the bed.

"We do heal quickly, indeed. But the pack isn't just made up of hot-headed muscleheads who are constantly fighting. We have children, elders, and wounds like silver burns that require medical knowledge, not just instinct. Come, sit down."

I obeyed. As Elara carefully lifted Jax's oversized t-shirt off my shoulders, I felt that her hands were gentle, yet firm. She applied another layer of herbal ointment and clicked her tongue in satisfaction.

"The Alpha's blood worked miracles on you. Your scars are fading." Elara paused for a moment, and her voice softened. "There are no words for what your father's clan did to you. But know this, Freya: this pack is your family now. We look after our own."

With that, she pulled a folded bundle of clothes from the bottom of her bag and placed it on the bed next to me.

"The Luna can't go to war in her mate's stretched-out nightshirt," she winked at me. "I brought you something more appropriate to wear. We'll be waiting downstairs when you're dressed."

After she left, I unfolded the clothes. A perfectly tailored pair of black, stretchy combat pants, a comfortable dark gray sleeveless top, and a pair of lightweight but sturdy black leather boots were in the package. It also included a black leather jacket with the pack's crest, a howling wolf's head, embroidered on the back. When I put it on, it was as if I had donned a suit of armor. The person staring back at me from the mirror was no longer that broken prisoner, but someone else.

When I walked down the stairs to the bar, the room was unrecognizable. The pool tables had been pushed aside, and the counter was covered in huge maps and weapons. At least fifty members of the pack were bustling around the room, and only now did I truly see how diverse they were.

"Ah, the angel of the battlefield has finally risen!" a female voice called out.

Two young women stepped out of the crowd. They were almost identical: pitch-black hair pulled into tight braids, sharp facial features, and an athletic build that radiated pure strength. Both wore weapon belts; one of them was spinning a massive hunting knife between her fingers with playful ease.

"I'm Lyra, and this is my sister, Nyx," grinned the girl with the knife, then they both bowed their heads slightly. "We're the pack's scouts. Silas told us how you sliced up those bloodsuckers yesterday. Honestly? It was impressive. We can't wait to see that sword in action."

"Thank you," I replied, a small, genuine smile appearing on my face. Female warriors. In my vampire clan, women were mostly just ornaments in my father's court, or political pawns. Here, however, a fierce, untamable fire burned in Nyx and Lyra's eyes.

A dull, heavy thud sounded from the corner. A mountain of a man, at least two heads taller than me, had just set a massive crate down on the floor, full of silver-coated bullets. Half of his face was distorted by an old, deep claw mark, but his eyes were friendly.

"That's Vaughn," Jax stepped beside me suddenly, wrapping his arm protectively around my waist. Just his mere touch instantly calmed my soul. "He doesn't say much, but if a door needs to be kicked down or a dozen vampires need to be held off, he's your man."

Vaughn merely nodded at me silently and placed his hand over his chest as a sign of respect.

Suddenly, the deafening roar of motorcycle engines shook the walls of the clubhouse from outside. It wasn't just one, or even ten bikes. Based on the sound, an entire army had arrived.

The bar fell silent. Jax's face hardened, the cold focus of the pack leader appearing in his eyes. He took my hand, intertwining our fingers tightly.

"The allies are here. Come."

As we stepped out the double doors of the clubhouse, the sight took my breath away. At least eighty bikers were just parking in the yellow dirt yard. On the backs of their black leathers was a different crest: the symbol of the Blood Moon Pack.

The crowd parted, and a tall, graying, yet solidly built man stepped forward. His aura was almost as suffocating as Jax's. He was an Alpha, too. Beside him walked a tall, red-haired woman who, based on her posture, was clearly his Beta or bodyguard.

"Kaelen," Jax nodded as the two Alphas stopped facing each other.

"Jax," replied the other man, Kaelen, his voice deep and raspy. "When I got Silas's message, I thought it was some sick joke. You said you're fighting the clan leader's vampires. That you want to march straight into their nest."

"It's no joke," Jax replied frostily. "We are going to war."

Kaelen's gaze then wandered to me. His wolf eyes immediately recognized the stranger in me. His nose twitched as he drew in a breath, and his face darkened for a moment. The red-haired woman behind him, Tara, reached tensely for her weapon.

"You brought a vampire to the packs' lands, Jax?" Kaelen growled, and the tension instantly peaked. The Blood Moon warriors tensed up, too.

Jax didn't step back. Instead, he gently pulled me to his side, his posture becoming a clear challenge. His eyes flashed yellow.

"I brought my mate to my pack, Kaelen. My Luna. She's half Valkyrie, and innocent of spilling any human blood. Her father, the clan leader, sent his army against us because she refuses to become a monster. And I am going to raze that clan to the ground for daring to touch her."

The silence was so thick you could almost cut it. Kaelen scrutinized my face in silence for a long moment. I raised my head, too, and looked him straight in the eye, not yielding to the wolf's dominance. He saw the scars on my neck, he saw Jax's jacket on me, and he probably felt the unbreakable bond pulsing between us as well.

Finally, Kaelen's face softened, and he let out a deep laugh.

"The Moon Goddess has a very strange sense of humor, my friend," he shook his head, then turned to me and bowed slightly. "If she is your mate, Jax, and her enemies are our enemies... then the claws of the Blood Moon Pack are yours."

The tension evaporated instantly, and the members of the two packs began to greet each other.

Jax looked down at me, immense pride gleaming in his eyes. As I stood there beside him, surrounded by a ring of a hundred wolf warriors: men, women, doctors, and killers, I realized something. I, the exiled mutt, had become the heart of a massive army. And these warriors weren't just marching to their deaths for Jax. But for me, too.