Saving the Alpha

Chapter 4

Night had stripped the world outside to silver and black, everything beyond the window erased save for the jagged shapes of trees and the moonstruck clouds crawling past. Inside, the only light came from a slip of moon filtering through the bare glass, casting ghost-shadows across the bed and its tangle of sheets and limbs.

Tate lay on his side, one hand pressed flat against Raven’s bare back, his palm cupping the sharp angle of her spine just below the shoulder blade. She was curled into him, knees drawn high, her head buried beneath his chin so that each breath from her lips ghosted against the hollow of his throat. They fit together perfectly as if she was sculpted for his body. Sometimes he tried to imagine a future where this wasn’t true, and his mind simply wouldn’t bend to the shape.

He exhaled, chest tightening as the sound broke the hush. “You ever think about what comes after?” he asked, keeping his voice pitched low.

Raven’s arms tightened around his ribs, a reflexive squeeze. “After what? The war? Or after we become parents?”

“Both,” he said, but his tone told her it was the war. She twisted so that her nose pressed up under his jaw, her hair loosened and wild from their earlier, fevered encounter.

“We are going to survive this, you know that right? And we are going to have a house full of little monsters tugging on their daddy’s arms.” She laughed, the sound muffled against his neck. “I believe in you. I believe in us. I can tell your mind is wandering. Are you worried?”

He found her hand in the darkness, linking their fingers tightly. “I don’t want to be alone when this is over,” he admitted. He felt the heat rise to his cheeks and hated the vulnerability in the words. “I’m terrified that I could lose you.”

Raven lifted her head and fixed her gaze on him. “You won’t,” she said, and the certainty in her voice made his heart stutter. “You’re stuck with me. And if you ever do something as idiotic as dying on me, I will bring you back just to chew you out. You know that, right?”

He almost smiled. “That’s not even the worst threat you’ve ever made.”

She shrugged. “I save the worst for emergencies. You aren’t going to lose me. Tate … you know that, don’t you?”

He wanted to say no, but what was the point, here and now? “I don’t know what I would do without you. I can’t help it … I worry.” He pressed his lips to her temple, holding them there until the words no longer hung between them.

She shifted so that their bodies fit even closer, skin to skin, her leg hooked over his hip. “I love you. I worry about losing you too. I’m going to have to protect you.” She listened to his chuckle as he pulled her in, closing the last inch between them. “I’m glad my mate is a fighter, not a burden.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Careful, you keep talking like that and I’ll start believing I’m invincible.” It could have lasted forever if not for the low growl of uncertainty that pulled at the edges of Tate’s mind. He hesitated before voicing it.

“I keep thinking about Gavin,” he said. “He didn’t have to stay. Part of me wonders if—” He bit off the rest, unsure if it would sound petty or pathetic.

Raven was quiet for a long moment. Then she tilted her head, studying him. “Wonders if?”

“If he has feelings for you.”

Raven slid her palm up to his cheek, holding his gaze. “He’s my friend. My best friend besides you. And if there was ever even a moment where he thought he wanted more, it ended before it started. Gavin has always known I belonged to you.” Her thumb stroked the line of his jaw, grounding him. “He would never want for something that wasn’t his. He isn’t built that way.”

Tate let the words sink in, feeling the knot in his stomach loosen. “You’re certain?”

“Absolutely.” She paused, then, with a wicked grin, pushed herself up so she straddled his waist, bare legs bracketing his. Her hair fell forward, hiding her face for a second, and when she looked up again, her eyes were luminous. “Unless you’re jealous,” she teased, “in which case, maybe you should make sure I don’t forget who I belong to.”

He barked a short, surprised laugh, the tension vanishing. “You want a demonstration, do you?”

Raven leaned forward, hands on his chest, and whispered, “Prove it.” Her lips crashed into his, and he responded in kind, rolling her beneath him, pinning her wrists to the pillow. Their mouths met in a clash of teeth and tongues, the kiss deepening until everything else in the world faded to static.

They were still tangled together, breathing hard, when the first warning hit.

Tate’s entire body went rigid. His hand flew to his temple, eyes wide and staring at nothing. Raven recognized the look … he was receiving a pack link. She waited, nerves buzzing, until his focus returned.

He sat up, pulling the sheet around his waist, all traces of softness gone. “Patrol reports large creatures moving toward us. They’re moving fast. Less than a mile now.” He was already up, scanning the room for clothes, mind ticking through strategies.

She followed, still catching her breath, but all traces of playfulness vanished. “We have to move. Now.”

A moment later, the sound reached them, a scream, sharp and animal, cut off mid-breath. Then another, closer this time. The calmness of the night was over, and something monstrous had taken its place.

Tate’s hands shook as he yanked on his shirt, but his voice was all command. He sent out a mindlink. We gather at the tunnel. NOW!

Raven was at his side, eyes blazing with adrenaline, their thoughts in perfect sync. Whatever comfort the night had given was gone. All that remained was the future and the fight to reach it. They had to get the pack to safety. They shoved their clothes on and were out the door.

Pack members were already gathering inside the house.

“They’re here!” a female pack member gasped. “We heard them—outside. Big, bigger than wolves—”

Gavin caught her by the shoulders, steadying her. “You know the plan. Downstairs, east wall. Don’t stop.” His voice cut through her terror, and she nodded, clutching her child tighter as she bolted toward the stairwell.

“Sully has gone to rally the outer perimeter, but he’ll meet us at the tunnel.” Gavin matched their pace as they moved to usher the rest of the pack inside, his stride effortless even under stress. “What the hell are we up against? Patrol said something about ... insects?”

“Big ones,” Tate growled.

Gavin snorted, a humorless sound. “Awesome. I love bugs.”

They hit the back door together. The entryway was a storm of bodies, pack members jostling for space, children clinging to parents, warriors shifting their weight preparing to shift to protect their families. The sound was deafening, orders barked, names called, the thump of boots and bare feet alike. But underneath it all was something worse … a deep, guttural rumble, felt more than heard, shaking dust loose from the rafters.

Tate stalked into the middle of the crowd and let his voice drop into his alpha tone. “Listen up!” he roared. Instantly, every head swiveled, a collective flinch as decades of pack hierarchy snapped into place. “We follow the evacuation plan. Seniors and pups, down the tunnel first. Everyone else, cover the retreat and move in units of five. Do not engage unless I give the order.” He scanned the room, catching eyes and holding them. “We survive this. All of us. Move.”

The crowd responded, breaking apart like the trained soldiers they were. Units formed up, shoulders squared. In less than a minute, the chaos was organized, fear replaced by focus.

But then Tate’s head snapped back. A spike of pain drove through his skull as the mental link from one of the lookouts flared white-hot.

Alpha! The beast is on us—faster than we thought—Gods, it’s eating them, it’s—The mental voice shattered and cut off abruptly. Silence, cold and final.

Tate staggered, grabbing a fistful of Gavin’s shirt to steady himself. “Lost the north post,” he muttered, voice hoarse. “They’re inside the perimeter.”

Raven’s eyes narrowed hard, no hesitation. “We move. Now.” Her leadership instincts were kicking in and she was forcing her own command over the pack.

The three of them led the way, carving a path through the pack. Children were scooped up, elders bundled along, everyone clinging to what little they could carry. They sprinted down the main hall, the old portraits rattling on the walls as the rumble of pursuit drew closer.

Behind them, the walls shook. A window shattered, and for a split second Tate saw something impossible. A leg, black and glistening, slamming through the glass, as thick as a man’s torso and ending in a barbed claw. The creature on the other side was massive, hunched, armored in plates that looked like wet stone. Its face was a confusion of eyes and fangs and something like a wolf’s muzzle, only wrong, too wide, too hungry. It shrieked, a sound that made every hair on Tate’s body stand up, then vanished as pack warriors threw themselves at it, shifting as they moved, exploding from human to beast in midair.

“Down!” Tate barked, shoving the nearest group toward the hidden door at the end of the corridor. Gavin threw his weight into the bookshelf, knocking it aside to reveal the iron hatch. “Go!” Tate shouted, and pack members funneled through, one after another, into the tunnel beyond.

Raven waited at the bottleneck, dragging in the stragglers, refusing to leave anyone behind. Gavin braced the door, teeth bared, as the pounding from above intensified. The house was being ripped apart one beam at a time.

They held the line until the last of the pack was through. Then, without a word, they slipped in after them, Raven sealing the hatch behind them with a final, echoing clang.

The world shrank to darkness and the thunder of their own heartbeats. Tate took a long breath, and led the way down the tunnel, Gavin and Raven on either side.

Somewhere above, the house groaned, then gave way with a crash that shook dirt from the ceiling. Their home, the pack house that had been there since the beginning of Black Ice, was gone.

Raven grabbed his hand to give him comfort as they continued through the tunnel. They didn’t look back. There was nothing left to look back to. This was an enchanted tunnel that would grant them protection all the way to Genesis.

They were a fourth of the way through when a scream rippled through the tunnel. “Sully! Sully!” A woman’s voice tore through the passage. Tate wheeled, trying to locate her. “He’s not here! He’s not—” She couldn’t finish, sobs crumpling her from within.

Tate’s jaw clenched. He couldn’t just leave him for dead, not without knowing.

Sully?! Sully we are in the tunnel, where are you?

Shit. I’m in the lookout. I can’t move. I’m trapped.

Stay right where you are. I’m coming for you.

He looked at Gavin, who was busy shouldering a teenage boy forward. “You’re in charge now,” Tate said in a rush.

Gavin’s eyes went round, panic flickering. “Wait, what?”

“Get them to Genesis,” Tate barked. “That’s an order!” He used his alpha tone to make sure Gavin followed through.

He turned to Raven, who was watching him with an intensity that felt like a physical blow. “You stay with Gavin,” he said. “If I don’t come back—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” she snapped. “We do not split up. You can’t order me around.” She watched as he opened his mouth to argue and her eyes narrowed. “Careful, or I’ll use my powers to make you stay. Either we both stay or we both go.”

Tate hesitated, torn between duty and the animal logic that said keep her safe at all costs. But the need to protect Sully won out. Without another word, he spun on his heel and began the long sprint back toward the surface, Raven’s footfalls echoing right behind him.

The tunnel sloped upward and the temperature dropped, the air sharpening to a cold that felt like knives in their lungs. They hit the hatch just as a fresh quake rattled the stone, dust hissing down in tiny avalanches. Tate wrenched the hatch open, half expecting to see the house above razed to rubble.

He wasn’t far off. The entry hall was gutted, roof torn away, walls splintered and sagging. Moonlight fell through the ruin, pooling in broken glass and debris. There was no sign of Sully. Just c*****e.

Tate cursed, then took a long sniff of the air, tuning out the burn of destruction and focusing on what mattered.

“He’s still in the lookout.” He looked at Raven, who moved closer to his side.

They bolted across the ruins, every step sending splinters into their boots. At the far end, something moved, a flicker of shadow, too quick and low to be a man. Tate slowed, hand raised to signal caution, and Raven mirrored him, her senses already stretched to the limit.

Then, without warning, the night outside exploded.

A creature, easily the size of a sedan, hurtled through the wreckage, landing between them and the tree line with a shockwave that threw Tate to the ground. He scrambled upright, Raven already at his side, both staring at the thing as it unfurled.

It stood on six legs, each armored in black chitin and ending in claws that could snap bone like a breadstick. The body was bulbous, slick with something like oil, and every inch of it screamed of hunger. Its head was all jaws, the top studded with black orbs that caught the moonlight and gleamed red.

It hissed, a sound like steam escaping a pressure cooker, then reared up, front legs poised to strike.

Raven didn’t wait for the attack. She lunged, shifting her hands into claws, aiming straight for the soft spot between the creature’s mandibles. Tate moved with her, claws out, senses narrowing to a single point of violence.

The monster screamed, a banshee sound that burned the ears.

There was no time to think. There was only the fight.

The world jerked into savage clarity as Tate and Raven shifted.

Tate’s bones popped and muscles expanded in a wave beneath his skin. Fur erupted across his shoulders and arms, silver and bright even in the moonlight.

Beside him, Raven let the lupine inside her surface. It wasn’t a pretty thing; it was savage, hungry, golden fur streaked with scars and old memories. She let out a howl that ripped through the ruined house, and the monster in front of them flinched as if it understood the promise in her voice. She stood upright, seven feet of snarling, fanged fury, with claws that could slice through a car.

The tick-creature hissed, its mandibles flexing, and then launched itself forward.

Tate met it head-on, ramming his shoulder into its bulk. The chitin shell dented but didn’t break; it was like hitting wet concrete. Tate howled, jaws snapping for the creature’s face, but it reared back, legs lashing out, slicing deep into his flank.

Raven was already airborne, vaulting off a splintered beam. She landed on the monster’s back, claws digging, then sliced at the seam where armored plates met soft joint. The thing bucked, nearly unseating her, but she held on, teeth bared.

Then the second monster came.

It crashed through the wreckage with an earth-shaking lunge, landing squarely atop Tate’s shoulders. Its weight alone should have crushed him, but he twisted, shoving the first beast aside to take the blow full in the chest. He went down hard, the monster’s claws pinning him, mandibles slashing for his throat.

Raven saw it out of the corner of her eye. She spun and hit the second creature with all the force she could muster. They tumbled together, a mass of fur and chitin and blood.

Pain was constant, a slice through her ribs, the dull ache where a barbed leg grazed bone, the sting of her own claws digging into flesh as she fought for leverage. But Raven pushed it all away, focusing instead on the battle-rush, the fire in her veins.

She rolled free, panting, and the creature followed, legs a blur. It was so fast, too fast, the mouth coming for her face—

She let go. Not of the fight, but of her mind, slipping into the sheya place deep inside her skull. The power was strong and bright, pressure like ice against her temples. She reached for the monster’s thoughts … not thoughts, really, more like instincts, a pure, howling drive to kill and feed and breed.

STOP, she commanded, the word a spear in the darkness.

The monster hesitated, front legs freezing, eyes flicking red and glassy in the dark. It struggled, but the sheya grip was iron, holding it in place as the rest of its body spasmed and thrashed uselessly.

Raven stood, blood dripping from her wounds, and moved in. She shifted fully to four legs for speed, then leapt, jaws open wide.

She latched onto the exposed neck joint just beneath the creature’s jaws and bit down, felt her teeth sink through its rough exterior shell. The taste was revolting, sour and chemical, but she didn’t let go until her jaw closed all the way through. The monster thrashed, shrieking, and then its head tore free in a geyser of black blood. Its legs twitched, then curled in, dead.

She staggered back, spitting out the foulness, and looked for Tate.

He was still fighting the other beast, but now its mandibles had closed around his torso, pinning him with crushing force. He howled, a sound that was more rage than pain, and raked his claws across the monster’s face, gouging at its eyes. One popped, leaking a viscous sludge.

Then the creature did something unexpected. It backed off, dragging Tate’s body with it, and began to retreat into the darkness, away from the shattered house and toward the treeline.

Tate flailed and squirmed, but the creature's barbed legs had him captured.

Raven roared. She launched after them, paws pounding earth and debris. She was fast, but so was the monster, already at the edge of the woods. If she lost sight of them, Tate was gone.

She pushed harder, lungs burning, pain trailing her like a shadow.

And then behind her, a sound. Wet, popping, grotesque. The headless corpse of her kill swelled, its abdomen ballooning, the shell straining until cracks spidered up its length. She braced herself, but it was too late.

The corpse exploded. A wave of stinging black ick and bone shards hit her square in the back, the force slamming her face-first into the ground. The taste of dirt filled her mouth. For a second, she thought she was blind, but it was just the pain, stealing every other sense.

She fought to get up. Her legs wouldn’t work. There was too much blood, her own and the monster’s, soaking into the ruined earth.

She turned her head, desperate, and caught one last glimpse of Tate’s silver form. He was being dragged into the forest by the creature, his jaws still snapping and his eyes wild.

Then everything went black.

Author's Note:

This is the end of the teaser chapters. The book is complete on In.k.itt a.p.p. You can join my group for more information and to ask questions. JM Snap: Snapper's Society is on fac3b00k

Thank you for reading my stories.

JM Snap