The Alpha's Denied Mate

The forest was alive that night. Shadows moved between the trees, swift and silent. The air was thick with the coppery scent of blood and the sound of running feet. Somewhere far behind, a howl split the night, a sound that made even the bravest warriors freeze. But the man running didn’t stop. Clutching a small bundle to his chest, he pushed himself harder, his lungs burning, his legs screaming. If he slowed down, even for a second, they would catch him. And if they caught him… No. He couldn’t let that happen. He reached the edge of the woods just as the moon broke free from the clouds, bathing the clearing in cold silver light. Dropping to his knees, he placed the bundle carefully on the ground. A faint cry rose from the blanket. “Hush, little one,” he whispered, his voice raw. “You must be silent. They cannot know you’re here.” Somewhere in the distance, branches snapped. He had seconds. He pressed a kiss to the baby’s head, his hands trembling. “Forgive me,” he breathed. And then, light. Golden, blinding light exploded from his palms, wrapping the baby in a warm glow. Her cry died away, replaced by silence. When the light faded, she lay still, breathing softly, unaware of the danger that had almost swallowed her whole. The man rose, his eyes wet with something between grief and determination. “Live,” he whispered to the moon before vanishing into the darkness, just as heavy footsteps broke into the clearing. The baby was gone. ---