CHAPTER FIVE
1415 Words
Rain whispered through the pines, soft but unrelenting a steady drizzle that slicked the moss-covered stones and filled the air with the scent of wet earth.
The forest was quiet except for the wind, bending the trees as if bowing before what lay hidden among them: a stone carved into the mountain wall, smooth from countless touches, marked only by a single name.
Seraphine.
Alpha Xavier stood before it, tall and silent. His coat clung to his shoulders, darkened by rain, the fabric moving with the rise and fall of his chest. His hands hung by his sides, his knuckles pale from the restraint it took not to shatter something.
He stared at the engraving, his voice low when he finally spoke.
“You’d hate this weather,” he murmured, a faint smirk ghosting across his lips. “You always did prefer the sun.”
The drizzle thickened.
Droplets ran down his temples, tracing the hard lines of his face, but he didn’t move. His voice, quiet and deep, carried across the clearing a confession spoken only to ghosts.
“They think I’ve lost control,” he said.
“That grief has made me unfit to lead.” He gave a short, humorless laugh.
“Maybe they’re right. But you know what they forget, Seraphine? Grief doesn’t make me weak. It makes me dangerous.”
He crouched slowly, his knees sinking into the damp soil and laid a hand on the stone. His palm flattened over her name, the contact grounding him the cold surface against his warm skin, the silence pressing against his ribs.
“They want me gone. The council gave me two moons to find a replacement.” His tone sharpened, his teeth grit. “As if you can be replaced. As if the Moon Goddess plays matchmaker for amusement.”
The hand on the stone trembled once, then steadied. His breath came shallow, and his voice fell into a whisper that carried both devotion and venom.
“I swore I’d keep the peace,” he said.
“But peace was your dream, not mine. When I win this war, when the throne is secure, I’ll do what should’ve been done long ago.”
His eyes darkened, the amber glow flickering faintly beneath the drizzle.
“I’ll burn every human settlement that laid hands on you. Every. Single. One.”
For a moment, silence stretched. The forest seemed to hold its breath, listening to a vow that tasted like blood.
Then Xavier stood, dragging a slow breath through his teeth. He looked down at the stone one last time, his face a mask of composure, but the faint tremor in his jaw betrayed him.
“I’ll come back when it’s over,” he said quietly. “And maybe then, I’ll finally rest too.”
He turned sharply, the coat flaring behind him as he walked back through the rain.
His beta Nate and three pack warriors waited by the edge of the clearing, heads bowed.
None of them had dared interrupt not when their Alpha’s grief carried the weight of thunder.
Nate straightened as Alpha Xavier approached. “We’ve cleared the northern patrol line,” he said softly. “The rogues are keeping their distance since the meeting.”
“They should,”Alpha Xavier replied, his tone flat. “They’ve seen what happens when I’m crossed.”
The men fell into formation behind him as they started through the woods. The rain drummed on the canopy, dampening their footsteps. It was nearing dusk, the air dense with mist. The path wound through ancient oaks, their branches tangled like ribs of sleeping beasts.
Alpha Xavier said nothing for a long time. The others had learned long ago that silence was safer than words when the Alpha’s mood ran this dark.
But then, halfway through the descent, he stopped.
His head tilted slightly. His nostrils flared.
Nate froze behind him. “Alpha?”
The scent hit them an instant later faint, out of place. Human. Tinged with blood and gasoline.
Alpha Xavier’s eyes narrowed. “A human,” he said, his voice flat.
“Probably a lost traveler,” Nate offered cautiously.
“Then they’ve wandered too far.”
He moved forward, steps quick and deliberate, the drizzle plastering his hair to his forehead. The others followed without a word. Branches whipped against their coats as they climbed over fallen trunks, drawn by the growing stench of burnt rubber and iron.
It wasn’t long before they saw it a shattered vehicle half-buried among trees, steam hissing faintly from the hood. The car was mangled, glass scattered across the mud. The forest floor reeked of oil and blood.
Nate raised a hand, signaling the warriors to halt. “Looks like it’s been here since morning.”
Alpha Xavier’s eyes gleamed faintly through the rain. “Check for survivors.”
The command was quiet, but it was an order that needed no repetition.
The warriors spread out. One circled to the passenger side, another to the rear. The silence was broken only by the patter of rain and the low groan of bent metal.
“Two bodies,” one of them called out after a moment his tone respectful. “A man and a woman. Both gone.”
Alpha Xavier’s expression didn’t change. His gaze flicked over the wreck cold, assessing, detached. But then
A sound.
Barely audible. A shallow, fragile gasp.
He turned his head sharply.
“here!” one of the warriors called.
They pried open what remained of the back door. There, half-buried beneath a crumpled seat, lay a young woman barely breathing, drenched in blood and rain. Her pulse fluttered weakly against her neck.
Alpha Xavier’s first instinct was fury.
A human. In his forest. On his land.
He stepped closer, the mud sucking at his boots. His shadow fell over her face as he crouched beside the wreck. “Get her out,” he said evenly.
The men hesitated not from disobedience, but from the shift in the air. Something about his tone had changed.
“Alpha?” Nate asked carefully.
“Do it.”
The single word was sharp enough to slice through hesitation. They obeyed immediately, lifting the girl with careful precision. Her body was limp, her clothes torn, blood streaking her temple.
And then Xavier smelled it.
Faint. Beneath the iron and smoke. Something ancient. Familiar. A bond that shouldn’t exist.
He went still. Completely.
The rain beat against his shoulders, running in cold streams down his face, but he didn’t move.
His eyes those cold, golden eyes flickered once with something raw before his features hardened again.
It couldn’t be. The Goddess wouldn’t dare.
He looked down at her face soft, fragile, unknowing.
A mortal.
Yet the thread that tied mate to mate sang faintly in his chest, thrumming like a cruel reminder of what he’d lost.
For a moment, his hand twitched at his side, torn between instinct and hatred.
Nate’s voice broke the silence. “Alpha… she’s human.”
Alpha Xavier didn’t look at him. “Take her to the pack.”
“Alpha, the others—”
He turned his head slowly, and that was enough. One glance, cold and lethal. Nate stopped mid-sentence.
“Yes, Alpha,” he said quietly.
The warriors carried the girl away. Alpha Xavier remained by the wreck, his eyes on the rain-slick stone that marked where she had fallen.
His pulse throbbed in his throat, but his voice was calm when he finally spoke.
“Make sure she lives.”
No one questioned him. They vanished through the trees, leaving him alone with the wreckage.
He stood there for a long moment, the drizzle soaking through his coat, his jaw tight. The bond still burned faintly under his skin weak but undeniable.
His eyes lifted toward the gray sky, his voice a low growl carried by the rain.
“First you take her from me… and now this?”
The forest gave no answer. Only the steady patter of rain.
He drew a deep breath, forced the tremor from his hands, and turned toward the path.
“Let’s move,” he said, voice clipped
No one spoke. They all felt it the shift in their Alpha’s aura. Something old and dangerous had been stirred.
And as the storm swallowed their silhouettes, Alpha Xavier’s gaze lingered once more on the forest behind him.
If fate thought this was mercy, she’d learn soon enough what his wrath looked like.
- Writer
