His Broken Mate

Chapter Seven: When the Ground Split Open

The first scream didn’t sound human.

Athena was already moving.

The forest erupted—wolves lunging from the trees, fangs bared, eyes glowing the same unnatural gold. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way they moved. Wrong. Disjointed. Like their bodies were being puppeteered from something deeper than bone.

Her shift hit her like a jolt of electricity. Bones cracked, spine lengthened, fur split across skin—and in seconds, she was on all fours, the silver cords of her coronation ceremony still tangled around one paw like a cruel joke.

Nyt was beside her in an instant—his shift fluid, practiced, savage.

Twin flame.

They launched into the fray.

Everything was fire and fur and snarling teeth. Guests screamed. Elders shouted. The courtyard that had just been glowing with promise was now streaked with blood and smoke.

Athena pinned one of the attackers, jaws tightening around its throat—and froze.

Its eyes.

She knew those eyes.

Jem.

One of their scouts. One of their own.

Possessed. Gone.

She hesitated for a second too long, and he threw her off.

She hit the ground hard, claws scraping stone. Another wolf lunged for her throat—but was intercepted mid-air by Nyt. He slammed the creature down, blood spraying across the stone steps.

“We need to push them back toward the trees!” he roared, mid-shift, voice warped through half-human teeth.

“They’re ours!” she shouted back.

“I know!”

They moved like war. Athena ducked and rolled, claws dragging through skin she didn’t want to recognize. The world narrowed to instincts and the pack’s fading howls.

The firepit collapsed.

The Elder who had been conducting their coronation lay motionless beneath the rubble.

Athena stood in the center of it all—chest heaving, blood soaking into her fur, ears twitching toward every sound.

And then—suddenly—the attackers retreated.

Just like that.

One by one, they vanished into the trees again. No final strike. No warning.

Gone.

Athena stood shaking. Her paws were slick. The silence left in their wake rang louder than the fight.

Her mom was crouched over an injured wolf. Caleb was limping. Two of the young ones didn’t rise at all.

She shifted back slowly, pain radiating through her arms, through her ribs.

“Why would they attack during a coronation?” someone whispered nearby. “Why tonight?”

Athena knew why.

Because tonight, the pack had been open. Celebrating. Vulnerable.

Because whatever was watching knew exactly when to strike.

And because this wasn’t the end.

This was a message.

And they were just getting started.