Dark Moon Rising

It's an Ambush

Freya's POV

It's an Ambush

A low growl rumbled from my throat as pain flared through my leg, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me weak. He slammed his knee into my stomach and then struck me across the face, sending me sprawling to the floor. I was already in my human form by then. Blood trickled from my mouth as I gasped for breath.

Damn, no need to be so savage. I didn’t do anything that bad to you.

He straddled me, his weight pressing down like a mountain, but I wasn’t about to let him have the upper hand. I bucked my hips, flipping him over, and now I was on top, my rage boiling over. I punched him again and again, feeling the bones in his face crack under my fists until he was barely conscious.

But then, I grew tired of the game. I drove my dagger into his forehead, ending the fight for good. Breathing heavily, I stood up, surveying the c*****e around me.

Lucian was nearby, his gaze fixed behind me. His eyes narrowed, and in a split second, he raised his hand and fired off a shot, taking down a rogue who had been sneaking up on me.

"If I wasn’t here, you’d probably be dead by now, Freya," Lucian growled, his voice rough and full of that infuriating arrogance. For once in my life, I saw the use of a gun as something dignifying.

"Oh, please, Lucian. Don’t flatter yourself," I shot back, rolling my eyes as I moved toward him.

"Don’t roll your eyes at me, Min ahst," he warned, raising an eyebrow in that way that always annoyed me.

So, naturally, I did it again. "We have bigger problems, you idiot."

Now standing in front of him, I could see his jaw clenching and unclenching, a sign of his irritation, but I didn’t care. My focus was on the room, where a lone rogue was still alive. I walked toward him, with Lucian, of course, following close behind.

I knelt down and ripped the mask off the rogue’s face, recognizing the brand that scarred his neck—a mark belonging to the Shadow Claw Pack, the rogue clan that called themselves the Berserkers, the very same hosts of this Ball.

"This doesn’t make sense," Lucian muttered beside me, his tone full of suspicion.

I slapped the rogue across the face, hard. "Who sent you? Is this part of some twisted vendetta against the entire Werewolf Dominion?"

The rogue grunted, blood trickling from his lips.

I slapped him again, harder this time. "Answer me!"

But instead of answering, the rogue smiled—a cold, eerie grin that sent a chill down my spine.

What the hell is he smiling at?

"They’re coming for you, and you’ll die like the rest. The Shadow Claw will rise," he spat, then before I could react, he pulled out his claws and slashed himself in the neck, his claws slitting deep into his throat.

What the hell…?

"Freya?" Seraphina’s voice broke through the haze. I turned to see her and Fenrir, both covered in blood, just like Lucian and me. Beside them was Lucian’s Beta, Alaric, his eyes full of the same grim determination.

"Are you hurt?" Seraphina asked, her eyes scanning me for injuries. I just rolled my eyes at her concern.

I nodded. "Don’t worry. I’m not dead yet, am I?"

She smiled lightly, but it faded as she turned serious again, glancing between me and Lucian. "We captured one of the rogues. He’s in the dungeons."

"Yeah, this one just told us we’re going to die and that their clan is going to take over everything," I pointed at the dead rogue at our feet.

"We’re coming with you," Alaric said suddenly, his voice firm.

"Pardon?" I asked, my attention snapping to him.

"What are you doing?" Lucian hissed, just as confused as I was.

"We’re coming with you. The Ironclaw wants both of you dead. The only way to stop them before they kill you is to join forces," Alaric insisted.

I stared at him as if he’d just told me the moon was made of cheese. Seraphina and Fenrir averted their eyes, looking guilty, like kids caught in a lie.

"What is going on?" I hissed, my patience wearing thin.

Fenrir scratched the back of his neck, glancing at me sheepishly. "Well… the three of us—Seraphina, Alaric, and I—thought it would be best to put our differences aside for now and handle this together. If the Ironclaw are targeting you, we stand a better chance by working together. We’re faster, and stronger as allies instead of enemies."

I glared at him, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. If Fenrir weren’t my best friend, I’d have considered throttling him right then and there.

"You know that I’d kill Lucian if we’re in the same room for more than ten minutes, right?" I muttered, exasperated by the whole idea.

As if to emphasize my point, I could hear Lucian and Alaric arguing in the background. Clearly, I wasn’t the only one against this.

"Listen, Freya. I know it sounds crazy, but what if it works? You two could at least try to be… frenemies. Once this is over, you can go back to hating each other, but right now, we need to try," Seraphina pleaded, her hands gesturing wildly as she spoke.

Fenrir chimed in, "Not gonna lie, it probably won’t be easy, but Seraphina’s got a point."

I shot him a withering glare, and he immediately looked down at the floor again.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Fine. But if one of them ends up dead, it’s your fault."

I cleared my throat and turned to Lucian, who was scowling, clearly just as unhappy as I was about this new arrangement.

"So, it seems our friends have decided to betray us and join forces. But they’re right. The Ironclaws are dangerous. They’ve been ambushing some of my territories, too. But they never take anything."

Lucian nodded, his golden eyes reflecting understanding. "It was a warning."

I nodded back. "We should’ve seen this coming. I thought they were just trying to scare us, but if they’re willing to kill innocents and sacrifice their own, then we need to be ready for anything."