The stolen Lycan princess

Attacked

*Dust*

My heart pounds in my chest, a frantic drumbeat as I instinctively drop the rag, my palms slick with fear. I’m no warrior; I’ve never held any kind of weapon, never learned the art of combat. The thought of facing these formidable foes sends me spiraling into a blind panic. I press my back against the cold stone wall, heart racing, eyes wide, searching for an escape.

They burst in like a pack of wild animals, their eyes glowing with a predatory hunger. I duck behind a large wooden table, my breath shallow and ragged. The sounds of battle erupt around me, growls, snarls, and the sickening crunch of claws tearing through flesh. The air is thick with the coppery scent of blood, mingling with the musty odor of the hall. I can’t see the fight, but I can hear it… my pack’s warriors defending their home, their roars mingling with the howls of the intruders.

I press deeper into the shadows, praying to remain unseen as chaos unfolds. The clash of bodies, the yells of pain and anger, create a cacophony that reverberates in my chest, drowning out every rational thought. I am nothing but a ghost in this moment, drifting through the chaos, praying for it to pass me by.

Suddenly, a thunderous growl echoes through the hall, resonating with raw power. A massive figure… a Silverfang warrior… crashes into one of my pack members. The sound of bone cracking reverberates through the air, and I wince, instinctively covering my mouth to silence my whimpers. I catch glimpses of fur and blood as the fighters tumble across the floor, a ballet of violence that sends a chill racing up my spine.

Time stretches, each moment dragging into the next as I huddle in my corner, praying for the battle to end, wishing I could vanish entirely. I want to run, but there is no safe way out of here right now. I close my eyes, trying to block out the horror unfolding around me, but the sounds seep through the cracks of my resolve, terrifying and visceral.

Just as I think I might be able to slip away unnoticed, a pair of eyes lock onto me from across the room. Two Silverfang fighters, now in human form, their faces twisted into cruel smirks, break away from the fight and stride toward me, cutting through the chaos with predatory grace. My breath catches, and I feel the icy grip of fear settle in my gut.

“Look what we have here,” one of them sneers, his voice dripping with malice. “A little stray, all alone and dusty. What are you doing, hiding back here, girl?” He steps closer, and I can see the glint of blood on his hands, the remnants of the battle still fresh on him.

“Maybe she’s a dirty girl in other ways,” his companion chimes in, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he reaches out, brushing a finger against my cheek, trailing the dirt across my skin as if marking me. A shiver of revulsion races down my spine, and I recoil instinctively.

“No! Get away from me!” I gasp, backing further into the shadows, but they close in, their laughter echoing cruelly around me.

“Come on, sweetheart,” the first one taunts, grasping my arm with a grip like iron. “Let’s have some fun.” He pulls me from my hiding spot, the world around me blurring as I’m dragged into the light of the fray.

Desperation claws at my throat as I struggle against them, but their strength is overwhelming. They’re laughing, jeering as they toy with me like prey caught in a web of their making. Panic surges within me, and I fight harder, my heart pounding like a war drum. The chaos around us blurs into a haze, the sounds of battle fading into the background as I focus solely on escaping their grasp.

“Isn’t she just the filthiest little thing?” the second one chuckles, their grip tightening as they pull at my clothes, tugging at the hem of my shirt. A wave of humiliation washes over me, igniting a fire of anger deep within, no matter what I will fight them with all I have.

And then, from somewhere behind me, a deep voice cuts through the noise like thunder, commanding and powerful. “Let her go, right now.”

I freeze, a shiver running down my spine as the words wrap around me like a protective shield. The Silverfang warriors pause, their laughter dying in their throats as they turn to face the source of the voice. I can’t see him at first, but the air shifts, and I sense a presence that is both intimidating and magnetic.

I look up, and my breath catches in my throat. He is tall, towering over the others with a physique that speaks of raw power and authority. His hair is dark, tousled, falling over his forehead in a way that exudes both danger and allure. But it’s his eyes that capture me… deep, stormy gray, filled with an intensity that sends a shiver of recognition through my core.

The Silverfang warriors hesitate, their expressions shifting from mockery to uncertainty. I can’t believe my eyes; it’s River Tempest, the feared Alpha of the Silverfang pack. His presence commands respect, even from his own warriors, and I can feel the tension in the air as he approaches, each step radiating confidence.

“Let her go,” he repeats, his voice low and dangerous, a promise of retribution if they disobey. My heart races as I meet his gaze, a flicker of hope igniting within me. Maybe, just maybe, he can save me from this nightmare.

But the warriors holding me exchange nervous glances, unwilling to relinquish their prize so easily. “She’s just a filthy servant,” one of them mutters, but the fear in his voice is palpable.

With a single, powerful step forward, River Tempest closes the distance between us, a predator among prey. “She is no such thing, she is my mate and I said, let her go. Right now.”