The Blackfang Alphas and Slaves

Chapter 7

Kai’s POV

The steam rises from my cup, curling lazily in the air. The scent is rich, tempting, the perfect way to end this frustrating evening.

I bring the cup to my lips, but just as I tilt it, the door slams open.

“Kai!”

Lucan’s urgent voice came. His boots hit the stone floor hard, his entire presence radiating tension.

I lower the cup, my jaw tightening. “What?”

Lucan stops in front of me, his breath heavy, eyes dark with warning. “The Thorns Pack. They’re attacking.”

A slow chill creeps into my spine.

I set my cup down carefully, my fingers twitching. “For revenge?”

Lucan nods. “For the one you killed. They’re demanding your head… or blood.”

A slow grin spreads across my lips. Good.

They want blood?

They’ll get massacred.

Without another word, I stride past Lucan, heading toward my weapons chamber. My boots thud against the floor, each step igniting a deeper rage within me.

The Thorns Pack thinks they can challenge me?

I’ll make sure they regret it.

Tonight, I’ll paint the battlefield red.

I push through the palace halls, my mind sharpening like a blade. The torches lining the corridors flicker as I move, casting long shadows against the stone walls.

“Gather the warriors,” I commanded over my shoulder to Lucan. “Tell them we leave at once.”

Lucan nods and vanishes down another hallway.

I head straight for the armory. The guards standing outside stiffen at my approach but quickly step aside. Inside, rows of weapons gleamed under the light, they were sharpening their blades and stringing their bows tightly, their armor were already polished and waiting.

I reach for my favorite sword, the blackened steel cool against my palm. It’s a blade that has tasted many throats, and tonight, it will drink again.

A knock sounds at the door, and a young warrior peeks in. “Alpha, the horses are being prepared. The warriors are assembling.”

I nod, fastening my sword to my hip and throwing on my chest plate. The weight of it is comforting, grounding.

By the time I step into the courtyard, the warriors stand ready, their eyes burning with anticipation. The scent of iron and battle fills the air.

Lucan approaches, his face grim. “They’ve already crossed into our land.”

I mount my horse, gripping the reins tight. “Then we ride now.”

A single howl pierces the night.

A signal.

Without hesitation, I kick my horse forward, leading my warriors toward war.

The pounding of hooves shakes the earth beneath us as we charge toward the battlefield. The cold night air whips against my face, but I barely notice. My focus is locked ahead, where torches and glowing eyes mark the enemy's approach.

The Thorns Pack has crossed our borders, their warriors already lined up in formation. They came prepared. Good.

Lucan rides beside me, his grip tight on his reins. “They outnumber us,” he says, his voice steady but sharp.

I grin, rolling my shoulders. “Let them think that matters.”

As we near, I raise my sword, signaling for my warriors to slow. Dust and gravel kick up as we pull our horses to a halt. The battlefield stretches wide, the distant forest framing the chaos about to unfold.

At the front of the Thorns Pack stands a broad-shouldered man, his gray furred cloak swaying. He steps forward, pulling off his hood to reveal a scarred face and cold, predatory eyes.

“Kai of the Blackfang Pack,” he calls, his voice thick with contempt. “You butchered my brother.”

I tilt my head, pretending to think. “Ah. You’ll have to be more specific. I’ve killed a lot of people.”

A growl rumbles through the enemy ranks. The tension thickens, warriors gripping their weapons tighter.

The man’s face twists with fury. “You’ll pay for his death, with your life or your land.”

I laugh, the sound ringing through the night. “You think you can take either?”

His nostrils flare, and before he can reply, I raise my sword high.

“Attack!”

A roar erupts from my warriors as we charge.

The First Clash

The first clash of steel on steel rings through the air, followed by the sickening tear of flesh.

I swing my sword, cutting down the first enemy who dares cross my path. Blood splatters my cheek, but I don’t stop. Another warrior lunges at me a massive brute with a war axe but I duck under his swing and drive my blade into his side.

A scream rips from his throat as he crumbles.

Lucan fights beside me, his movements precise and deadly. I barely dodge an arrow whizzing past my ear, spinning to see another enemy taking aim at me.

I grab a fallen spear and hurl it. It pierces his chest before he can release the bowstring.

The warrior falls beside me, his throat slashed open. Rage surges through me. I grab his killer by the hair, yanking his head back before driving my blade through his skull.

The ground becomes slick with blood. The air is filled with the sound of snarls, shouts, and dying breaths. Warriors shift mid-battle, their wolves clashing with feral brutality.

A Thorn warrior lunges at me, shifting midair into a massive, black wolf. I barely have time to react before he tackles me to the ground. His jaws snap inches from my face, hot breath reeked of death.

With a grunt, I push my forearm against his throat, keeping his fangs at bay. My other hand scrambles for my dagger.

Just as his teeth sink into my shoulder, I plunge the dagger into his gut.

A pained whimper escapes him before he slumps, lifeless.

I push him off me, panting as I rise to my feet. Pain flares in my shoulder, but I ignore it. More enemies are rushing toward us.

Lucan appears at my side, blood dripping from his blade. “We need to push them back.”

I nod, raising my sword high. “Blackfangs! Advance!”

With renewed vigor, my warriors charge forward, driving the Thorns Pack backward.

A piercing howl rings through the night. The Thorns Pack’s leader, seeing his forces dwindling, signals for retreat. Warriors scramble, their formation breaking.

I stalk toward him, but before I can reach him, a massive smoke bomb explodes between us.

Coughing, I wave away the thick haze, but when it clears, he’s gone.

The battlefield falls silent except for the groans of the dying. Some of my warriors were standing, some panting, and some were bleeding, few died but at least we are the winner.

Lucan surveys the field. “They’ll be back.” They went to prepare.

I wipe my blade clean, smirking. “Then we’ll be waiting.”