The Alpha’s Forbidden Mate

FOUR: THE GLEAM BEFORE DARKNESS

[KIERAN POINT OF VIEW]

The forest finally swallowed me, darkness wrapping around me like a cloak.

Every branch and root became a potential trip, every shadow a hiding place.

My chest heaved, my lungs screaming for air, but I couldn't stop.

Zelira and Cael had made it back, right?

They had to. I couldn't afford to think about them now—not if I wanted to survive.

The snap of a twig made me freeze.

My senses, still on high alert from the prison, strained.

Something moved faster than any human could.

Before I could even draw a breath, a massive shape erupted from the shadows.

Fur bristled, teeth glinting in the moonlight. The growl that rolled from its throat was primal, sharp, and full of malice.

No time to think. Instinct took over.

My body contorted, bones snapping and reshaping. Claws tore through my palms as fur erupted along my skin.

My senses exploded—every rustle, every heartbeat, every scent of the forest was amplified.

The creature lunged again. I dodged, swiped, struck—but it was older, stronger, faster. Its power wasn't just raw—it was almost alpha-level, controlled, precise.

I could feel it in the force of its strikes, in the weight behind its movements.

I barely managed to block its jaws from clamping down on my shoulder.

Then we collided in a blur of teeth and claws, the sounds of the fight echoing through the night.

Every strike I threw, every dodge, every snap of my claws felt like a test.

Moment of clarity—and rage—fueled me. I slammed my shoulder into its chest, the ground shaking under the impact. With a final, furious push, I knocked it down hard.

Heart hammering, I shifted back into human form, gasping for air, limbs trembling from the transformation.

I stumbled backward, chest heaving, every nerve on fire. Relief washed over me.

I'd survived. I was free.

Until I looked up.

The figure before me was no longer a wolf. Human. Calm. Too calm.

The dagger in their hand caught the moonlight—the same silver blade that had taken my father. My stomach dropped and my legs refused to obey.

Recognition struck me like a thunderbolt.

Every memory of that night, every whisper of deceit, every shadowed moment in the council chamber—all pointed to this person.

"It's... you," I breathed, my voice trembling with disbelief and fury.

He smiled like the devil. "Yes. And I'm going to kill you—just like I did your father."

My throat tightened. "Why? Why did you kill him?"

His smile vanished. "Because he didn't deserve everything he had. I killed him because he was the Alpha."

The forest seemed to close in. My options were gone.

I was exposed, vulnerable, and unarmed against the one who had orchestrated my father's death—and now aimed to finish what they had started.

The killer smirked. "Don't worry..." he sneered, stepping closer. "You're going to be with him now. You'll feel exactly what he felt when I stabbed him with this dagger."

I clenched my fists, heart pounding in my ears. My mind raced. I had to survive.

I had to live. I had to uncover the truth.

The fight was far from over... and this time, running wouldn't be enough.

I froze as the dagger pressed against my chest, its steel biting through skin.

Sharp burn shot through me, white-hot and unrelenting, stealing the air from my lungs.

The pain spread outward, pulsing with every frantic beat of my heart until it felt like fire tearing me open.

Then warmth followed—too much of it—soaking through my shirt.

I glanced down and saw blood blooming fast, dark and heavy, spreading in thick streams across my chest.

Every instinct screamed to fight, to dodge, to survive—but I didn't move.

Then, almost deliberately, the killer stepped back. His eyes, cold and sharp, lingered on me for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

I didn't say a word. I didn't breathe.

I just watched, heart hammering.

He didn't strike again. He just stood there, watching me.

The dagger slipped free from my chest with a sickening drag, leaving fire in its wake.

My knees threatened to buckle, blood gushing down in hot streams, soaking through my clothes until I could feel it dripping from my fingers.

Still—he didn't move. Instead, he smiled.

Slow. Certain. Like a man who had finally gotten what he wanted, like he was savoring the sight of me breaking apart.

His eyes told me everything—he believed I was finished, that in only a few minutes I would collapse in my own blood and never rise again.

He knew the weapon that had killed my father in an instant would do the same to me—and that I wasn't ready to die yet.

But he was prepared to make it final.

He vanished into the shadows, leaving me trembling and broken, my mind clung to fleeting memories.

Cael's grin, even in the dark of the prison; Zelira's determined eyes urging me to survive; my mother's comforting presence, the warmth I wished I could feel now.

I collapsed to my knees, the cold earth biting into my skin.

My hands shook as I pushed myself forward, crawling.

I didn't know where I was going—only that I had to move, had to try.

Maybe I'd find help. Maybe I wouldn't.

Hope, like the fading moonlight above, slipped through my fingers.

Justice for my father... clearing my name... it all felt impossible now.

The cold forest pressed in around me, my knees buckling.

My vision blurring, strength failing, I whispered the names of those I trusted, holding onto them as my last anchor.

Then, as the world narrowed to darkness and pain, I realized—I wasn't just dying.

The same weapon that ended my father's life was now claiming mine.

My chest tightened, my breath failing.

But...

Somewhere behind me, branches crunched under slow, deliberate footsteps.

My pulse spiked, pounding in my ears.

The killer had come back to see me in my lifeless body... or the prison guards had finally caught my scent.

Both meant the same thing. I was finished.

The footsteps grew louder—unhurried, deliberate. Whoever it was knew I couldn't run. Couldn't fight.

I tried to move anyway, dragging myself through the dirt, my fingers clawing at roots and leaves.

Every muscle screamed in protest.

My vision kept flickering, the trees bending and twisting as though the forest itself was mocking me.

The footsteps stopped.

Shadow fell across me, blotting out the thin sliver of moonlight above.

The air grew heavy, pressing on my ribs until I could barely draw breath.

I lifted my head, slow and shaky. The figure above me was nothing more than a silhouette—no telling if it was man or woman, stranger or someone I knew.

Just darkness wrapped in the shape of a person. "...Please..." The word scraped out of me, weak and raw, carrying a hundred meanings I couldn't voice.

No reply.

Then—something shifted against it chest. The glint broke through the shadows, catching the moonlight for a heartbeat.

Once. Twice. Like a faint pulse of gold in the dark.

I couldn't tell what it was.

Only that it gleamed, then vanished, as if the night had swallowed it again.

The figure stayed silent.

Then—blackness swallowed me whole.