The Hunter's Wolf Captive

Episode five

Chapter 005:

The Alleyway Ambush

The fog in Vale was thickest around midnight. It swallowed the streetlights, turning the narrow alleyways behind the campus into a labyrinth of shadows.

Nyx walked quickly, her hands shoved deep into her jacket pockets. She had just finished a grueling late-night shift at the local coffee shop, Sips and Drinks, and every muscle in her body ached. All she wanted was to get back to her small off-campus apartment and sleep.Suddenly, Leo went completely rigid in her mind. 

'Stop. Left flank. Three humans. They smell like cheap liquor and cold sweat.'

Nyx halted. Her eyes narrowed as three large men stepped out from the thick fog, blocking the exit of the alley. They wore heavy dark jackets, and their hands were wrapped around thick metal pipes and baseball bats. From behind her, a fourth man stepped into the light, cutting off her escape.

"Well, well. Look what we have here," the biggest thug sneered, scraping his metal pipe against the brick wall. The screeching sound was deafening in the quiet night. "The boss said a little b***h from the college needed to be taught a lesson. She wants your pretty face ruined."

Nyx didn't panic. A cold, dangerous calm settled over her. Elara, she thought immediately. The spoiled brat couldn't fight her own battles, so she had hired street thugs to do her dirty work.

'Let me out, Nyx!' Leo roared inside her head, practically clawing his way to the surface. 'Let me crush their bones! Let me paint the bricks with their blood!'

" Hold on," Nyx replied mentally. "If I shift completely, the whole town will know what I am. We handle this smart." Nyx slowly pulled her hands out of her pockets, her fingers curling into tight fists. 

"You guys should turn around," she said, her voice dropping into a low, icy tone. "You're out of your league."

The thugs laughed, stepping closer. The leader swung his bat straight toward her head.

Nyx didn't even blink. Tapping into her wolf reflexes, she ducked beneath the swing easily, the wood missing her hair by an inch. She slammed her palm into the man’s chest, using her supernatural strength to launch his massive body backward. He crashed into a stack of wooden pallets, the wood shattering under his weight.

But before she could turn to face the other three, a loud, heavy bang echoed through the alley.

A blinding flash of light exploded from a nearby fire escape, followed by a thick, cloud of choking white gas. The thugs instantly dropped to their knees, coughing violently and clutching their throats.

Nyx coughed too, her eyes watering. The gas smelled heavily of aconite—wolfsbane. It was a specialized military-grade knockout gas designed to paralyze supernatural creatures. Leo shrieked in agony inside her mind, his power instantly freezing under the toxic vapor.

Through the thick white smoke, a tall, terrifying figure walked out of the shadows.

It was Mr. Creed.

He didn't look like a literature teacher anymore. He wore a tactical black jacket, heavy leather combat boots, and his stormy gray eyes were completely devoid of human mercy. In his right hand, he held a sleek, modified tactical firearm loaded with silver-tipped rounds.

One of the remaining thugs tried to swing a pipe at him. Creed didn't even look flustered. He dodged the attack with brutal, military-level precision, grabbed the man’s arm, and snapped his wrist with a sickening crack. Before the man could scream, Creed drove the butt of his gun into the thug's jaw, knocking him out cold.

The last two thugs took one look at Creed's lethal, bloodthirsty expression, dropped their weapons, and fled into the fog, screaming in terror.

The alley went dead silent. Creed turned his head slowly, his piercing gaze landing on Nyx. She was leaning against the brick wall, trembling slightly as she fought off the effects of the wolfsbane gas.

Creed marched over to her, his heavy boots clicking against the wet pavement. He didn't say a word. He grabbed her arm, lifting her up easily, and dragged her toward the main street where his massive, custom black G-Wagon was idling in the dark.

"Let go of me," Nyx hissed, trying to pull away, but her muscles were still weak from the gas.

"Shut up, Nyx," Creed growled, his voice a dangerous, gravelly baritone. He threw open the passenger door and practically shoved her inside. "You almost got yourself killed because of your stubborn pride. We are leaving. Now."

Ten minutes later, the G-Wagon roared through the iron gates of a massive, heavily guarded estate on the highest hill of Vale. This was Creed’s private mansion—a fortress of stone, glass, and high-tech security.

He brought her into a luxurious, dimly lit study and forced her onto a plush leather sofa. He walked away and returned a moment later with a medical kit and a bottle of expensive whiskey.

Creed knelt in front of her, his large hands surprisingly gentle as he poured antiseptic onto a cotton pad. He reached up to clean a small cut on her cheekbone that she hadn't even realized she had.

"I had them handled," Nyx muttered, wincing slightly as the medicine stung her skin. She stared into his stormy gray eyes, their faces only inches apart. "I didn't need your hunter rescue mission."

"You had nothing handled," Creed said, his jaw clenching tightly. He gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him. His eyes flared with a dark, suffocating possessiveness. "That gas was meant for you. Elara's father doesn't just hire thugs, Nyx. He has connections to rogue packs. If I hadn't been tracking your phone, you would be a corpse right now."

Nyx stared at him, her heart hammering against her ribs. The chemistry between them was toxic, heavy, and undeniable.

"Why do you care so much?" she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "Is it because you're a hunter and I'm your prey? Or is it still just because of Freya?"

Creed’s hand trembled slightly against her jaw. He let out a harsh, defeated breath, his dominant mask cracking for the very first time.

"When Freya was alive, she was hunted by the same dark forces in that school," Creed confessed, his voice dropping to a raw, painful whisper. "I kept my distance because I am a hunter. My family's legacy is to kill your kind. I thought staying away would keep her safe. But my cowardice got her killed. I failed her."

He leaned closer, his chest rising and falling heavily as his eyes locked onto Nyx's lips. The toxic obsession in his gaze was terrifying.

"But I will not fail you," Creed vowed, his voice absolute and lethal. "I don't care if you're a monster. I don't care if my family burns me alive for it. You are mine to protect now, Nyx. And I will kill anyone who tries to take you from me."

Nyx felt a shiver of pure electricity run down her spine. She wanted to push him away, she wanted to protect her pride—but as she looked into the broken, dangerous soul of the man in front of her, she knew she was already falling into his dark trap.