Moonbound Alpha

Chapter 10 - First Hunt

Ronan POV

I feel it long before the thunder cracks in the sky. The pressure changed, leading to a large storm. My wolf is restless, but ready for whatever is coming.

The air aims as I stand at the end of the Keep, next to the outer gate with the forest in front of me. I can feel something wrong, again.

The footsteps approaching behind me were soft, sure, but heavy with the weight of the world, implying it is Kieran. He appears at my side, silent as ever, though the tension in his posture speaks louder than words.

“The reports came in an hour ago,” Kieran starts, “western outskirts. Patrol found carcasses, drained and partially corrupted. The same as before.”

My jaw tightens with the implications.

“Survivors?”

Kieran shakes his head. “Nothing left to survive.”

The last time the corruption breached this far, it nearly breached the inner wards. That cannot happen again.

It will, unless we end it. My wolf, Baxter, growled in my mind beneath the surface.

I know.

The pack begins to gather around me, warriors filtering in the courtyard in small groups, armor strapped, and weapons drawn. They are quiet, ready.

Lucan arrives with a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “Storm hunt,” he says lightly. “Always my favorite. Nothing like wet boots and angry beasts before sunrise.”

Rafe follows close behind Lucan, checking the edge of a blade. “You like anything that gives you an excuse to talk more.”

Lucan smirks. “You’d miss it if I stopped.”

I barely hear the bickering that they are doing. My attention shifted to Elara the moment she stepped into the courtyard.

She walks towards me without hesitation, her gaze steady and her expression composed. She already knows what is happening.

“Something’s wrong beyond the wards,” she says, stopping just short of me. It wasn’t a question but a statement.

I studied her for a moment, what she said wasn’t a question it was a statement like she already knew the answer. “You can feel it.”

“Yes.”

Kieran’s breath intakes sharply. “That confirms it.”

“Confirms what?” I ask, my gaze sharpening on him.

“That this isn’t just corruption spreading,” Kieran says. “It is being drawn here.”

Elara steps closer. “Then I am going with you.”

The noise around us goes completely quiet at her choice. Rafe’s head lifts slightly to look at her, and Lucan’s smirk fades just a fraction.

“Absolutely not.”

Her eyes flash in annoyance. “You need me.”

“I need my pack focused, Elara,” I countered, stepping closer to her. “Not divided.”

“I can track it,” she says, her voice tightening. “Not just follow the signs, but I can feel it. You’ve seen what my magic does to it.”

“I’ve seen what it does to you,” I snapped back, fear slamming into me hard at what might happen to her.

Elara watches me with a quiet resilience. “If I stay behind, you’re going in blind.”

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “And if you come, you put yourself in the center of something that we don’t fully understand yet.

Her gaze locks with mine. “Then we can stand in the center, together.”

I feel the bond pulsing under my skin, something foreign that I am only just starting to recognize. The pulse is insistent, telling me quietly, without words that this time I need her. I exhale slowly, accepting this even if I don’t like it.

Kieran’s voice is measured and deliberate, almost like he is picking out his words carefully. “She’s right.”

My eyes snap to my beta, surprised.

I expect him to back down, but he doesn’t. “If her magic can identify the source, it can give us an advantage we don’t currently have.”

“Or it makes her a target,” Rafe counters with the same point I had been using to keep Elara safe.

“It already makes her a target,” Kieran scoffs.

Lucan tilts his head slightly. “Besides,” he adds, his tone lighter than Kieran or Rafe. “If she can burn those things faster than us, I vote for her.”

I can feel the doubt of the pack surrounding me, their fear of her unknown magic is pulsing around me. Their distrust is almost like a fog, and it is all directed at her.

Mine. Baxter growls.

The word echoes through me, absolute. I clench my jaw before speaking. “Fine.”

Elara doesn’t smile, but I see her posture soften a fraction.

“You stay with me,” I add, sharp. “You do not break formation. You do not act without my command unless it is to defend yourself. Understood?”

“Understood.” She nods.

As we make our way out into the forest, we are swallowed quickly by the trees. By the time we cross the ward line, the storm has fully broken. Rain lashes through the trees in sharp, slanted sheets, soaking through fabric, leather and fur within minutes. Thunder rolls overhead, deep and relentless while flashes of lightning split the sky and illuminate the forest in stark, fractured glimpses.

The scent of rot, and corruption hits me like a wall. Something is wrong beneath the natural scent of the woods.

Elara stiffens beside me.

“You feel it,” I say quietly, keeping my voice low but loud enough that she can hear me over the storm.

“Yes, it is stronger now.”

I signal the pack, moving the formation forward in a tight, controlled group. Each step is deliberate despite the mud and slick roots of the forest floor beneath their boots. The tension is there, and I can feel it in the way I see my pack members look at each other and Elara.

They are giving her just a fraction too much space, but trust isn’t given. It is earned, and right now she has none of theirs.

Lucan drifts back toward Elara and I, stepping over a fallen branch. “So,” he says casually, “first official hunt with the pack. Not exactly a welcoming party, but we do what we can.”

Elara’s expression takes on the tiniest hint of amusement. “I’ve had worse.”

Lucan grins. “I believe that.”

Rafe calls back from ahead of us, muttering. “Focus.”

“I am focused. I am focusing on morale.” Lucan shoots back sarcastically.

I exhale, trying to relieve some of the tension that I feel from my gamma and delta. I almost don’t notice Elara slowing suddenly. “What is it?” I turn to her, immediately alert.

She turns her eyes towards a denser part of the trees. “There, it is concentrated over there.”

I signal the pack to halt with a sharp whistle. Every muscle feels tense, and I can feel the danger pressing in from years of honing my instincts.

“Stay behind me.” I order, pushing Elara gently behind me, putting myself in front of her to protect her from what is to come. Surprisingly, she doesn’t argue this time.

I hear footsteps ahead, crunching against fallen leaves and brush. I see the foliage move, and I see a mass of something that looks wrong, and twisted.

“Positions,” I hissed quietly yet quickly to the pack.

I hear the sounds of drawing weapons, and breathing falling silent.

The clearing sounds wrong, feels wrong. The ground is suddenly torn open, rots exposed like I’ve seen broken bones, and in the hollow beneath a fallen tree lies the source of the smell of rot.

Three shadowbeasts.

They feed like wolves, but nothing about them is alive. Their bodies ripple between substance and smoke, limbs bending at unnatural angles, ribs flashing through shadow as though reality can’t decide what they are meant to be.

I see one of them lift their heads, and it sees us. The whispering begins. It wasn’t a loud sound, but not clear either. It was wrong enough to make every instinct in my body tighten.

“Now,” I growled, and the pack moved on command.

Rafe struck first, fast and precise, his blade cutting clean through the nearest creature’s shoulders. That didn’t slow it down. The shadow rippled, swallowing the strike, reforming with a shriek that tears through the silence.

“Same as before!” One of my pack members who was in the earlier battle against shadowbeasts yelled.

“Don’t let them split!” Kieran commands, and Lucan darted left, drawing one of them away with calculated movement. I could hear his laughter, sharp and deliberate. It was a calculated distraction wrapped in confidence.

Claws tore free, the bones adjusting beneath the shadowy surface. My sense sharpened until I lunged at one of the creatures mid-charge, driving it back with brute force along.

It fights differently this time, smarter. It doesn’t lash out, but it adapts, slipping through my grip and reforming.

“Elara!” I yelled, wanting her to see what was happening.

“I see it, Ronan.” Her voice was reassuring, and she sounded focused and steady.

I risked a glance toward her, and saw her standing behind the line, hands already lifted, and her cuffs beginning to glow. Her eyes track the movement of the beast, not the bodies but something she could see.

“Don’t chase the shape, it is anchored… there!” She points, not to a body but to a flicker in the air between her and I.

I didn’t hesitate. I pivoted and lunged toward the space she had indicated, claws slashing through what looked like nothing… but it hit something solid. The beast shrieked in pain. Its form collapses inward for just a second.

“Again!” Elara yelled.

The second strike hits harder, and this time I see the creature stumble.

I feel the connection between her perception. She sees what I cannot, and I destroy what she reveals. I needed her.

“Together,” I growl in her direction, pulling her forward to work with me.

Her magic answers instead. Witchfire ignites, not explosive like before, but controlled, threading through the clearing in sharp, precise arcs. It catches the shadowbeasts mid-motion, forcing them into shape, pinning their corruption long enough for the pack to strike them.

The creature adapts, her magic alone isn’t enough.

One broke free, lunging straight for Elara, understanding that she was what was allowing us to hand strikes.

I moved before I could think. I was meeting the beast mid-air, slamming it into the ground, but the impact sent a shock through both of them. The corruption lashed forward, biting at my skin.

“Elara!” Kieran shouted. I turned, too late, the second beast was already on her.

Elara doesn’t step back, she stepped into it. Her hands came up with witchfire blazing… and I felt something inside him answer.

The mark on my back burned. My vision sharpened as silver flooded the edges of his sight, the world narrowing to movement, breath, heat, and her.

The moment to strike happens and I move. Her witchfire and my strength, my wolf collide in the same instant, her silver-white flame threading through the force of my movement, my aura wrapping around her magic like a shield and a weapon all at once.

A flare of silver light tore through the clearing, bright enough to rival lightning, the air crackling. The beasts break, their forms collapse, corruption burning away under our combined force. They just end.

We stand still, breathing hard as the space between us hums.

The world rushes back all at once, and I move toward Elara without thinking, closing the distance in two strides.

The bark bit into Elara's shoulders as my body pressed against hers, both of us still heaving from the fight. My forearm braced beside her head, the other hand gripping her wrist above her, pinning it to the rough trunk.

The forest around us had gone silent, as if the world itself held its breath, waiting to see what they would do with all this violence that had nowhere left to go but inward.

"You fight like you want to destroy something," I rasped against her ear.

Her free hand had somehow found its way to my chest, fingers curled into the torn fabric of my shirt.

My gaze dropped to her mouth, and her lips parted. My grip on her wrist tightened.

Then I pulled back just enough to let cold air rush between us, though I didn't release her. "No," I said, and the word was rough as gravel, thick with restraint. "Not like this."

"If you want darkness, Elara," My thumb traced along her racing pulse, a touch so deliberate it made her shiver. "If you want to lose yourself in this, in me, then you're going to choose it. Consciously. Completely." My eyes burned into hers. "When it happens, you'll walk into it with your eyes wide open, knowing exactly what you're asking for."

I released her wrist but didn't step away, letting her feel the promise in the space between us. "So choose, but choose clearly."

“Return to the keep,” I say, turning away from Elara. No one argued.

We cross the ward line as the storm begins to subside, and as we do, the magic binding us pulses between us in a wave. The entire keep likely feels it, meaning the elders too.

“s**t,” Kieran curses.