Chapter 16
1606 Words
Kael
"We need to find her."
The words leave me low and controlled, but the tension beneath them is anything but calm.
Rider spreads the patrol logs across the large oak table in the strategy room, pages shifting beneath his hands as we search for anything that might tell us who she is... or where she went.
Ink markings, Time stamps, Entry permissions, Visitor clearances.
Every movement recorded within Red Moon territory.
Yet none of it feels fast enough.
None of it feels certain enough.
My wolf presses closer beneath my skin, restless in a way Fenrir has not been in years.
Mine.
The growl vibrates through the bond like distant thunder beneath frozen earth.
Control has always defined the wolves of the Northern Kingdom. Ice does not fracture easily. It endures pressure, cold, time itself.
But something inside me feels dangerously close to cracking.
"There have been no unexpected visitors," Rider mutters, scanning the final page. "No unregistered wolves entered the territory today."
Zane begins pacing, restless energy radiating from him like lightning searching for somewhere to strike.
Asher stands still, but the silence around him carries the weight of strategy already forming.
Then Rider's finger stills on the page.
"One name," he says quietly.
The room sharpens instantly.
"The new trainer," he continues. "Cleared for access this afternoon."
My focus narrows.
"What is her name?" I ask.
Rider scans the document once more.
"Lila's trainer."
The air changes.
Zane is already moving before Rider even finishes speaking.
Within seconds he is gone, the distant sound of a door slamming echoing through the hall.
We follow without hesitation.
We find Lila near the courtyard entrance, her posture immediately stiffening as she senses the shift in atmosphere around us.
Four future Alphas rarely approach anyone together without reason.
And rarely with urgency this obvious.
"Who was she?" Zane demands.
His voice is sharp, fast, edged with barely restrained tension.
Lila blinks in surprise, clearly taken off guard by the intensity directed at her.
"Who?" she asks softly.
"The trainer," Asher clarifies calmly, though the firmness beneath his voice carries unmistakable authority.
"The one you met today."
Her gaze flicks between us, instinctively recognising the weight of command in the air.
The pressure of four Alpha heirs focused entirely on her answer is enough to make her shoulders tense.
Her body reacts before her mind fully processes the situation.
"Hailey," she says quietly.
The name settles heavily into the bond.
Hailey.
"She's from Ironclaw Pack," Lila continues, voice softer now. "That's where Rowan is from. She's... strong. One of their best warriors. Our father arranged for her to help train me to become a better Beta."
Each word sharpens the image forming in our minds.
Warrior, Ironclaw, Strong.
Mate.
The room feels too small suddenly.
Too slow.
Too far from where she is.
We move instantly.
No further discussion needed.
No hesitation.
Keys retrieved.
Engines roaring to life.
Still dressed in riding leathers, I swings onto my bike before the others even reach their vehicles.
The machine growls beneath me as I accelerate down the long stone drive of Red Moon territory.
Wind tears against my jacket as instinct takes control completely.
Fenrir presses forward beneath the surface of my mind, ancient dominance radiating through every nerve.
Mine.
The word is not spoken.
It is claimed.
Her scent is faint now, barely perceptible, but still present.
A thin thread of silk carried along the air.
Fragile, Precious, Guiding.
I follow it without conscious thought, navigating the long forest road that leads toward Ironclaw Pack.
Towering trees line the path like silent witnesses, their shadows stretching long across the fading light.
The deeper we ride, the heavier the air becomes.
Something feels wrong.
Unease coils slowly in my stomach.
Then the bond shifts.
Pain.
Sharp.
Sudden.
Not mine.
Hers.
Fenrir surges forward with violent force.
Mate is hurt.
The words strike through me with cold certainty.
Ice floods my veins instantly.
The world narrows to one objective.
Reach her.
Now.
I push the bike faster, engine screaming as Ironclaw territory finally comes into view beyond the treeline.
Even before I reach the gates, the scent reaches me.
Blood.
Rogue blood.
Fear and violence.
Instinct leads me without hesitation.
I abandon the bike before it fully stops moving, launching forward as Fenrir takes control mid-motion.
Bones crack and reform.
Muscles expand.
Fur erupts across skin.
The shift completes before my paws even touch the ground.
Massive, Black, Dominant.
Fenrir lands in full stride.
We move through the broken entrance of the orphanage, destruction visible immediately.
Splintered wood.
Blood-stained floors.
The lingering scent of terror.
And then...
her.
She lies near the overturned table, barely conscious but still breathing.
Alive.
Relief crashes through the bond so powerfully it nearly steals the air from my lungs.
Fenrir slows as we approach her carefully.
Reverently.
Her scent surrounds us now.
Vanilla and wild strength, mixed with steel.
Mate.
Mine.
Her arm is torn deeply where rogue teeth pierced flesh.
Blood still seeps slowly across her sleeve.
Her breathing is shallow.
Uneven.
But she is alive.
Fenrir lowers himself beside her, massive body positioned protectively between her and the doorway.
No one will reach her now.
No one will harm her again.
Never again.
Mate is safe.
But the rage building beneath the surface of Fenrir's control promises something far more dangerous for anyone who dares threaten her in the future.
Because now we know.
Our mate exists.
And we will burn the world before we allow her to fall again.
Fenrir's ears snap backward as the sound of movement echoes from deeper inside the orphanage.
Wood creaks.
Soft scrambling footsteps.
Weak whimpers.
Alive.
Behind me, three powerful presences crash through the shattered entrance almost simultaneously.
Asher.
Zane.
Rider.
They enter in wolf form, massive bodies tense with lethal readiness. Their fur stands raised along their spines, teeth fully bared, bright white fangs glinting beneath low snarls that vibrate through the broken building like distant thunder.
Every instinct in the room shifts.
Predators have arrived.
Hunters.
Alphas.
The air thickens with dominance as their combined presence floods the space.
Zane's silver-grey storm wolf moves first, fast as lightning striking dry earth. His paws barely seem to touch the ground as he races up the broken staircase, following the faint sounds of movement above.
Rider's desert-toned wolf moves in silence, controlled and precise, scanning every shadow with calculating focus. His amber eyes glow with lethal clarity, reading the room, mapping threats, anticipating danger before it reveals itself.
Asher's massive forest wolf remains near the entrance for a fraction longer, ensuring no rogues remain hidden among the wreckage.
Mate is alive.
The thought pulses through the bond, shared between all of us.
That is all that matters.
For now.
Fenrir lowers his head slightly, nudging Hailey's shoulder carefully.
Her breathing is shallow but steady.
Alive.
Still fighting.
Strong.
Mine.
Her blood stains the floor beneath her arm, the wound deep where rogue teeth tore through muscle. Rage burns low in my chest, controlled but dangerously close to erupting.
I shift quickly, catching her gently before her body can slump further against the ground. My arms cradle her carefully, lifting her as though she weighs nothing.
Despite the blood, despite the battle, she feels fragile in this moment.
Too still.
Too quiet.
Too vulnerable.
Her head falls softly against my shoulder as I adjust my grip, careful not to place pressure near the wound.
She smells of steel and smoke and something softer beneath it all.
Strength wrapped in warmth.
Warrior and woman.
Zane reappears moments later, descending the stairs with controlled urgency. Five small pups cluster close to his legs, trembling but alive. His wolf moves slower now, careful not to startle them further, guiding them gently forward.
Rider emerges from a side corridor with two more pups pressed close against his flank. His wolf's expression remains sharp, calculating, already memorising every scent left behind.
Every rogue.
Every trace.
Every clue.
I scan the ruined space again.
"The others?" I ask, voice low.
Asher shifts slowly back to human form, his expression darker than I have ever seen it.
His eyes move across the destruction.
The blood.
The broken furniture.
Small bodies covered respectfully near the far wall.
His jaw tightens.
"Gone," he says quietly.
The word lands heavily.
Dozens of pups lost.
Young lives ended before they even had the chance to understand the world they were born into.
Silence fills the broken building, thick with anger and grief.
The Ironclaw Pack has always been known for its elite guard force.
Disciplined.
Efficient.
Relentless.
Second only to our own in strength across this region.
An attack like this should never have succeeded.
Something is wrong.
Deeply wrong.
My gaze sharpens as I study the damage more closely.
The rogues did not simply break in blindly.
They moved with purpose.
With direction.
With knowledge of where to strike.
This was not random violence.
This was organised.
Planned.
Someone wanted this to happen.
Someone sent them.
Fenrir's low growl vibrates through my chest as the truth settles heavily into place.
This was no ordinary rogue attack.
This was a message.
Or a distraction.
Or something far worse.
My grip tightens slightly around Hailey as protectiveness floods the bond again.
Whoever orchestrated this chose the wrong target.
Because now...
They have drawn our attention.
And I will find out why.
No matter how deeply buried the truth may be.
No matter who is responsible.
No matter what it takes.
Because someone tried to take what is mine.
And that is a mistake they will not survive repeating.
- Writer
