THE ALPHA’S FORBIDDEN REDEMPTION

CHAPTER 4: FIVE YEARS OF ROT

~ Five Years Later ~

~ Marcus POV ~

"Pick up your weapon, Marcus!" Tyler shouted, his breath coming in short, angry gasps.

I stared down at the dirty floor of the training courtyard, my fingers twitching wildly. My practice blade had slipped right out of my grip, clattering against the stones. My hands were shaking so violently that I couldn't even form a proper fist.

"Again," I muttered, forcing my voice to sound firm, but it cracked from exhaustion.

"No, we are done," Tyler said, lowering his own blade and stepping closer to me. His eyes weren't full of concern; they were narrowed, tracking the sweat dripping down my face with a cold, calculating look. "You can barely stand. It has been five years, Marcus. Five years of watching you fall apart."

I didn't answer. I couldn't. A sudden, burning pain flared deep in my chest, making me bend over as I gasped for air. It felt like something inside me was physically decaying.

It was the unsealed bond. When I rejected Nora and she died in those briar woods, the broken connection didn't just disappear. It began to rot. My wolf was trapped in a state of constant, silent mourning, refusing to heal, refusing to give me back my full alpha strength.

"The pack is noticing," Tyler warned, dropping his voice to a whisper as he looked around at the guards watching us from the walls. "They see their Alpha stumbling during routine drills. Camille is furious that you keep delaying the wedding, and the elders are losing patience."

"I am fine," I growled, forcing myself to stand up straight despite the agonizing pressure in my heart. "It is just fatigue."

"It is not fatigue, and we both know it," Tyler snapped, stepping directly into my path as I tried to walk away. "But your failing health is the least of our problems right now. We have a crisis."

I stopped, my heart racing fast against my ribs. "What happened?"

"Alpha Roger has officially closed the western passage," Tyler revealed, his face turning dark. "His neighboring pack has set up armed borders. They blocked our trade routes this morning."

I felt a cold wave of panic hit my stomach. "They blocked the routes? That is an economic blockade. Our southern storage houses are almost empty. We rely on those shipments for food and medicine."

"Exactly," Tyler said, clenching his jaw. "Our people are going to start starving within a month. Roger knows you are weak, Marcus. He knows our border defenses are falling apart because you don't have the power to reinforce the territorial magic. He is squeezing us until we collapse."

"We will fight," I said, my voice rising in anger. "Assemble the warrior patrols. We will break through his lines by force."

"With what army?" Tyler challenged, his voice full of harsh reality. "Half of our men are sick, and the other half are terrified because their Alpha can barely hold a weapon. If we attack Roger now, we will be wiped out before noon."

I gripped my chest, the internal fire burning hotter as stress flooded my veins. "Then what do you suggest, Tyler? We cannot just sit here and watch our territory die."

"The council already met while you were sleeping off your fever this morning," Tyler said, his expression serious. "They demand we hire outside help. They want to bring in the Ghost Blade."

I stiffened, my eyes widening. "The mercenaries? Absolutely not. That force is a collection of dangerous outcasts and lawless rogues. They don't answer to any alpha, and they don't respect pack law. I will not bring a bunch of bloodthirsty killers into my home."

"We don't have a choice!" Tyler shouted back, his voice echoing off the courtyard walls. "The Ghost Blade has a reputation for fixing failing borders in weeks. Their elite soldiers can crush Roger's blockade without risking a single one of our own men. The elders have already sent the payment, Marcus. The contract is signed."

"Without my approval?" I roared, my inner wolf thrashing in anger, though the outburst only made my lungs burn with pain.

"You weren't awake to give it," Tyler said coldly, his eyes dropping to my trembling hands. "They are arriving at the front gates right now. You need to get dressed and act like a leader, or the council will replace you before the sun sets."

Ten minutes later, I stood at the main gates of the compound, flanked by Tyler and a dozen of my remaining guards. Camille stood behind us, her expensive dress rustling as she complained loudly about the dust, but I tuned her out. My focus was on the road ahead.

A massive caravan of dark vehicles and armored trucks was rolling through our valley, kicking up huge clouds of dirt. Hundreds of soldiers marched in perfect formation alongside the trucks, their weapons gleaming in the afternoon sun. They didn't carry pack flags or tribal markings. They wore matching dark armor, moving with a terrifying, silent discipline that made my own guards shift uncomfortably.

The lead vehicle stopped right in front of our gatehouse.

The door popped open, and several highly trained soldiers jumped out, immediately forming a protective line around the passenger side. They didn't bow to me, they didn't acknowledge my alpha aura at all. They behaved as if I were invisible.

Then, the commander stepped out of the truck.

The figure was covered in dark, flexible armor that fit snugly against their frame. A black, featureless mask covered their entire head, hiding their face from the world. A long cloak drifted behind them in the breeze as they walked forward, their movements incredibly smooth and dangerous.

The presence rolling off this person was immense. It wasn't the typical, aggressive pressure of an alpha wolf, but something entirely different. It felt like a freezing void, an ancient, heavy weight that seemed to swallow the very light around them.

My heart skipped a beat. A strange, familiar chill ran down my spine, making the hair on my arms stand up. Why did this energy feel so familiar?

"Welcome to the Shadow Fang territory," Tyler spoke up, stepping forward with a tight smile when he noticed I was frozen. "I am Beta Tyler, and this is Alpha Marcus. We appreciate the quick response to our contract."

The masked commander didn't look at Tyler. The dark visor of the mask turned directly toward me, locking onto my face. They stood perfectly still, evaluating me with a cold, silent intensity that made my throat feel dry.

"Your borders are pathetic," a voice came from behind the mask. It was a woman's voice. "An amateur could break through your northern defenses in twenty minutes. It is a miracle Roger hasn't slaughtered you all already."

"Listen here, outsider!" Camille yelled, stepping forward with her face turning red. "You are a paid servant. You do not speak to the royal family with such disrespect!"

The commander didn't even turn her head toward Camille. She simply lifted a single gloved hand, and instantly, three of her snipers raised their rifles, aiming them directly at Camille's chest.

My guards drew their weapons in a panic, the sound of clicking metal filling the air.

"Lower your weapons!" I ordered my men, my voice cracking slightly as I stepped in front of Camille. I looked at the masked leader, my heart pounding wildly against my ribs. "We are allies here. There is no need for bloodshed. Let us discuss the terms of the defense inside the house."

The commander stayed silent for a long moment, the tension stretching so thin it felt like it would snap. Finally, she gave a slight nod, and her snipers lowered their weapons in perfect unison.

"Terms are simple," the female commander said, her voice dripping with ice. "I run the defense. Your men stay out of my way. If anyone interferes with my soldiers, I will pull my forces out and let Roger burn this place to the ground."

"Agreed," Tyler said quickly, before I could object. "But our laws require the leader of any visiting force to identify themselves to the Alpha. We need to see who we are dealing with."

The commander let out a soft, mocking laugh that sent a sudden jolt of electricity straight to my chest.

"You want to know who I am, Tyler?" she asked.

She reached up, her gloved fingers catching the edge of her helmet. With a slow, deliberate movement, she unlatched the seals. A soft hiss echoed through the quiet courtyard as the pressure released.

She pulled the mask away, letting it drop to her side.

A mass of long, dark hair fell around her shoulders, catching the sunlight. I froze, my breath catching in my throat as my heart stopped beating altogether.

Standing before me was Nora.

She was no longer the tiny, bleeding servant in rags. Her skin was flawless, her expression perfectly calm, and she stood with the posture of a true queen. But it was her eyes that made my blood run cold.

Her irises were a deep, pitch black, darker than the midnight sky, absorbing every ounce of light in the courtyard.

She looked straight at me, her face indifferent, showing absolutely no emotion as she looked at her former mate.

"Hello, Marcus," Nora said, a cruel, beautiful smile touching her lips. "Did you miss me?”