He Treated Me As Trash, I Ruled As Queen

Chapter 3: The Rogue Attack

I drifted in a dark, formless ocean, suspended between life and death. The agonizing burn in my chest had faded into a dull, rhythmic throb, matched only by the strange, ancient heat pulsing from the very center of my soul. It was as if someone had lit a furnace in a house made of ice.

Then, the sound came.

It started as a low vibration that rattled the metal legs of the operating table, shaking the bloodstained surgical instruments. Then, it erupted into a deafening, terrifying roar.

Ahoooooooooo!

It was the pack horn. Not the short, rhythmic blasts used to signal a meeting or a hunt. This was one continuous, frantic wail that tore through the night sky. The boundary wards had fallen. The Bloodmoon Pack, widely considered the most impenetrable fortress in the region, was under attack.

My heavy eyelids fluttered open. The fluorescent lights above me flickered and buzzed as the emergency generators kicked in. Doctor Silas, who had been sitting in the corner updating a chart, dropped his clipboard. His face, already pale from extracting my heartblood, turned the color of old parchment.

"Rogues," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Goddess help us... they've breached the eastern gate."

He didn't look at me. He didn't check the crude bandage strapped to my chest. He simply turned and bolted out the door, joining the chaotic stampede of footsteps echoing in the hallway.

I was completely alone.

Adrenaline, cold and sharp, flooded my veins. It warred with the strange new heat inside me, forcing my paralyzed muscles to twitch. I rolled onto my side, crying out silently as the movement tore at the puncture wound near my heart. I fell off the table, hitting the cold linoleum floor with a sickening thud.

Get up. You have to get up.

My mind screamed the commands, but my body felt like it was made of lead. I dragged myself forward by my elbows, my bloodstained gray dress dragging behind me. I used the edge of a medicine cabinet to pull myself up to my bare feet. My knees, still bruised and scabbed from Kaelen's punishment in the great hall, buckled instantly. I caught myself against the wall, leaving a bloody handprint on the pristine white paint.

The hospital was in absolute pandemonium. As I stumbled out into the corridor, I saw half-shifted Enforcers sprinting toward the exits, their claws extended and fangs bared. Nurses were frantically trying to push stretchers of bedridden patients toward the reinforced bunker beneath the basement. No one offered me a hand. To them, the mute Omega was already a ghost.

I pushed through the sliding glass doors and staggered out into the central courtyard.

The night sky was no longer black; it was a terrifying, violent canvas of orange and red. The scent of pine and rain had been entirely replaced by the choking stench of burning wood, sulfur, and copper. The grand wooden gates of the eastern wall were splintered into a thousand pieces, the ancient runic wards glowing a faint, dying blue before winking out completely.

Through the breach poured a tide of nightmares.

They were Rogue wolves. These weren't just lone wolves who had wandered away from their packs. These were feral, maddened beasts, driven insane by isolation and bloodlust. Their fur was matted with filth, their bodies covered in jagged scars, and their eyes glowed with a sickly, rabid crimson light. They were massive, some nearly the size of bears, and they tore into the Bloodmoon defenders with a savage, uncoordinated fury.

A Rogue leaped onto a nearby guard tower, its massive jaws snapping the throat of a sentry before the man could even scream. Blood rained down onto the cobblestones.

I pressed my back hard against the brick wall of the hospital, sliding down until I was huddled behind a large stone planter. I covered my mouth with both hands to stifle the ragged, painful wheezes escaping my lungs. I was an Omega. I had no speed, no strength, and now, I barely had any blood left in my veins. If one of those beasts caught my scent, I would be torn to shreds in seconds.

Yet, amidst the chaos, my eyes were drawn to the center of the battlefield.

Kaelen.

He was in his partial-shift form, a towering, terrifying amalgamation of man and beast. His muscles bulged under his skin, thick golden fur sprouting along his forearms and jawline. His claws were fully extended, dripping with the dark, foul blood of the Rogues. He moved with a lethal, mesmerizing grace, dodging snapping jaws and delivering fatal, bone-crushing blows in return.

He roared, an Alpha command so powerful it made the ground shake, forcing three Rogues to stumble mid-charge. In a flash of golden light, Kaelen lunged, ripping the throat out of the largest beast with his bare hands.

For a split second, looking at his broad, powerful back, a pathetic, deeply ingrained biological instinct flared inside me. The dying Mate mark on my neck gave a phantom throb. My Alpha. My Mate. He was the strongest warrior in the territory. He could protect me. If he just turned around, if he just saw me bleeding against the wall, surely his fundamental instincts would override his hatred.

I pushed myself up from behind the planter, my hand reaching out, my lips forming his name without a sound.

Then, the heavy oak doors of the hospital lobby crashed open to my left.

Lyra stumbled out. She was no longer wearing the oxygen mask, and the pale, sickly demeanor she had exhibited just an hour ago was entirely gone. She looked terrified, yes, but her movements were quick and agile. She was wearing Kaelen's oversized jacket, clutching her stomach as she looked wildly around the burning courtyard.

"Kaelen!" she shrieked, her high-pitched voice cutting through the sounds of battle.

Kaelen’s head snapped toward the hospital. His golden eyes locked onto Lyra, widening in absolute terror.

But his sudden movement drew the attention of the enemy. A massive Rogue, its fur black as pitch and slick with gore, broke through the defensive line. It had clearly recognized Kaelen as the Alpha and was targeting what the Alpha was looking at.

The beast pivoted, its red eyes locking onto the hospital entrance. It let out a guttural snarl and charged.

It was coming straight for us. Lyra was standing on the top step of the entrance, frozen in fear. I was ten yards to her right, leaning heavily against the brick wall, directly in the trajectory of the beast's attack. The Rogue was so massive, its lunging strike would easily crush both of us against the stone facade.

"Lyra!" Kaelen roared.

It was a sound of absolute, frantic desperation—a sound he had never, not once in three years, made for me. He abandoned his position, leaving his flank exposed to two other Rogues, and blurred into a streak of golden power.

Time seemed to slow to a torturous crawl.

I watched the black Rogue leap into the air, its jaw unhinging, saliva flying from its yellowed fangs. I watched its massive paws reaching out, the razor-sharp claws aimed directly at my face. I couldn't move. My legs were anchored to the ground by exhaustion and blood loss.

I raised my weak, trembling arms in a futile attempt to shield my head, my eyes darting to Kaelen.

He was faster than the Rogue. He was a missile of pure muscle and instinct, flying through the air to intercept the beast.

He's coming, a tiny, foolish voice whispered in my mind. He's going to save us.

But Kaelen didn't aim for the center. He didn't aim to take the brunt of the beast's attack to shield his entire territory.

As he closed the distance, Kaelen twisted his body violently to the left. He flew right past me. The wind of his passing whipped my hair across my face, carrying the familiar scent of pine and rain away from me.

Crash.

Kaelen collided with the Rogue in mid-air, but his momentum was entirely focused on the top step. He wrapped his massive arms around Lyra, shielding her delicate body with his own indestructible frame, and tackled her off the stairs, rolling them both safely behind a reinforced concrete pillar.

The Rogue, thrown off balance by Kaelen's glancing blow but not stopped, crashed into the hospital wall.

The impact shattered the brickwork inches from my head. The beast scrambled for footing, its massive claws raking the cobblestones. It shook its massive, ugly head, turning its glowing red eyes directly onto me. A low, vibrating growl rumbled deep in its chest.

I stood completely alone.

The chaos of the battlefield, the screams of the dying, the crackling of the flames—it all faded into a muffled, ringing silence. My breath caught in my throat. I slowly turned my head to look toward the concrete pillar.

Kaelen was on his knees, frantically running his hands over Lyra's face and arms, checking her for injuries. His chest heaved with panic. Lyra was crying, burying her face into his chest. Kaelen wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head, completely consumed by his relief.

He didn't look back.

He didn't turn his head to see if the Rogue had crushed me. He didn't check to see if the woman whose heartblood he had just drained was lying dead on the pavement. In the ultimate test of survival, when forced to choose between his Mate and his mistress, he hadn't just hesitated—he had actively bypassed me.

In that single, crystalline moment, the last fragile thread of my hope snapped.

The sadness didn't come. The tears, which had flowed so freely in the great hall and on the operating table, completely dried up. The pathetic, whimpering Omega inside me, the girl who had spent three years begging for scraps of affection from a man who despised her, finally stopped breathing.

When Kaelen chose Lyra, he didn't just break my heart. He killed Elara.

The massive black Rogue lunged. Its jaws snapped open, aiming straight for my throat. The stench of rotting meat washed over my face.

But I didn't raise my arms to block it. I didn't close my eyes in fear.

The cracking sound in my chest reached a deafening crescendo. The ancient ice shattered completely, giving way to a roaring, blinding inferno. The heat rushed up my spine, flooding my brain, burning away the remnants of the Alpha command, burning away the weakness, burning away the silence.

I looked the beast dead in its glowing red eyes, and for the first time in my life, I welcomed the violence.