Fleeing Moon

Shadows

Marcus stood frozen for a moment, his gaze locked onto Lena. Her words echoed in his mind, but he couldn’t quite make sense of them. His thoughts were a whirlwind, tangled between the mission, the rogues, and… that—word.

“What did you say?” he asked, his voice low, the words almost disappearing between them.

His heart was still hammering in his chest from the fight, but something about the way Lena looked at him made him feel... unsettled, like there was something she wasn’t telling him.

Lena didn’t answer immediately, her eyes flicking to the warehouse and back to him.

He was inches from her, his eyes staring at her lips.

Before she could say anything further, Marcus's senses sharpened, and he snapped back into the moment.

The sounds of the fight—chaotic, distant—were already echoing through the night, signaling that the battle had started without him. His wolf stirred inside him, urging him to act, to fight. He couldn’t wait any longer.

“Damn it,” Marcus muttered under his breath, his gaze flicking away from her. He had to focus.

He looked back at her, his expression hardening. “Lena, I need you to stay out of the fight. You’re not part of the plan,” he said, his voice firm.

His eyes darkened as he listened to the fight that was only a few feet away.

“You’re not ready for this kind of fight,” Marcus continued, his tone becoming more insistent.

Lena’s eyes glinted into a light blue, green, color… Marcus knew it was her wolf trying to emerge. He could see she didn’t want to stay out of the fight, but she kept it to herself.

“I’ll be fine, Marcus,” she said with a quiet determination. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

Without another word, he turned, heading toward the sound of men clashing.

“Did she say…mate?” Marcus thought his mind in a daze.

Marcus turned his attention back to the warehouse, his focus narrowing to the enemies ahead. If they thought they had the upper hand, they were wrong.

“Nice timing, Marcus!” Justin shouted, reloading his weapon in one fluid motion. His jawline was clenched. His piercing blue eye, were cold and calculating, as he shot darts at the transformed rogue wolves.

“Let’s push them back!” Marcus ordered as he lunged toward a massive rogue that was headed straight towards them.

Marcus anticipated the attack, sidestepping gracefully and countering with a powerful elbow strike to the rogue's ribs. The impact made the rogue grunt, but he quickly recovered, spinning around to deliver a low kick aimed at Marcus's legs.

Marcus jumped over the kick, landing gracefully before delivering a series of rapid punches.

Not one to back down, the rogue quickly regained his footing and pulled out a small knife, the blade glinting in the low light.

Shadow growled inside of Marcus.

Marcus, unphased, shifted into a defensive stance, his eyes locked onto the rogue’s movements. The rogue lunged forward, slashing the knife through the air, but Marcus ducked just in time, narrowly avoiding the blade. With precision speed, Marcus grabbed the rogue's wrist, twisting it to disarm him. The knife clattered to the ground, and Marcus followed up with a swift kick to the rogue's midsection, sending him sprawling onto the ground.

With the rogue momentarily stunned, Marcus stood over him, fists clenched and ready for whatever came next. The rogue, realizing he was outmatched, raised his hands in surrender. Marcus took a step back, allowing Justin to dart him with a sedative.

“I’ll just give him one extra, just in case,” Justin said with a grin, injecting the rogue with a second dose to ensure he wouldn’t regain consciousness anytime soon.

The clashing of weapons and shouts of warriors filled the air. Dust swirled around him, mingling with the sweat and determination of the fighters. His heart raced with anticipation as he scanned the chaos, searching for the one who commanded the rogues—the one in charge.

His warriors moved like a well-oiled machine, each strike and parry executed with precision. They were well-trained, their years of preparation culminating at this moment of conflict. Marcus focused, his keen eyes darting between the rogues, looking for any sign of leadership in the chaos.

Suddenly, he spotted a tall figure standing atop a rise, overlooking the chaos, with an air of authority. Draped in a dark cloak, the figure's eyes darted around, assessing the battlefield, but his main focus was on the grates.

“It’s him,” Shadow growled, his voice low and fierce.

With a determined look, Marcus gestured to his warriors to follow. “Form a line! We’re taking him down!”

“Stay sharp!” Justin shouted, moving with precision toward the cloaked figure.

The rogue commander turned, sensing the shift in momentum, and a sinister grin spread across his face. He raised a hand, and with a swift motion, the remaining rogues attacked, some in human form, others in wolf form. Marcus knew that they already had the upper hand; they had disarmed and sedated more than half of their men. It was only the leader and his protectors.

Marcus felt the surge of his wolf as he charged forward, his warriors flanking him. Using his wolf’s strength to push the smaller wolves to the ground, making them stumble out of the way.

His eyes still on the cloaked man, with a snarl, he pushed through the throng of combatants, dodging blows and snapping jaws.

Suddenly, Marcus felt a stinging pain throbbing at the side of his body. He turned, trying to search for the source but found nothing.

“Shadow, what is going on?” Marcus asked, his hand resting just above his hip, where the pain was.

Then the sound of Lena's scream pierced through the chaos of battle, a haunting note that sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through Marcus. The others didn't notice, but he heard her, like she was the only sound that he focused on.

He glanced back, his wolf instincts battling inside of him.

“Something is wrong… with her…” Shadow said in a low, dangerous growl.

Marcus's body tensed, his bones shifting beneath his skin as the beast inside clawed its way to the surface.

His vision blurred, the world around him fading to shades of red as his senses sharpened.

“NO, SHADOW” Marcus growled.

He fell next to his warriors, clenching the ground beneath his now extended claws.

Justin ran in an instant towards his side, ripping off Marcus’ tactical vest.

He knew what was about to happen. The rest of his team moved away from him in an instant.

Marcus' heart pounded in his chest, each beat a reminder that he was losing the battle against his wolf, and then it happened his wolf pushed him to the back and transformed.

His muscles spasmed as his body transformed, tearing through his tactical clothes.

The Elite watched in shock.

They were trained never to shift outside the Estate grounds, but before them, their future alpha's wolf stood tall. His wolf snapped at the few remaining rogues.

“I should have listened to my father and left her at the Estate,” Marcus said in anger at the back of Shadow’s mind.

Marcus’s wolf was a massive shadow against the warehouse walls, its fur a deep, midnight black that seemed to absorb the very light around it. Its muscles rippled beneath the sleek coat, each movement precise and graceful—a perfect balance of strength and agility.

Standing taller than most wolves, its broad shoulders and thick neck gave it an almost regal presence.

“I need to find her,” Shadow said with a low, hard voice.

Shadow’s eyes were a golden color, that shone in the dark.

Shadow moved without hesitation. "Why?" Marcus thought. He didn’t know why he needed to know she was safe.

Marcus could feel the fury surge within him, igniting his wolf’s primal instincts when he caught her scent.

Shadow leaped forward, tracking her in a blur. Leaving his men behind to finish up with the rogues.

The chill of the evening air seemed to be, amplifying his fear. He could almost hear her heartbeat, frantic and uneven, echoing in the silence of his own mind.

"I smell her," Shadow said with low, dangerous. His feet barely made a sound as he moved. Turning a corner in the alley, he skidded to an immediate stop.

In the light of the flickering streetlamp, he could see her silhouette disappearing with the red lights of the car into the busy traffic.

Shadow sniffed the ground, unsure.

“They’ve taken her...” His voice was rough.

Shadow sniffed again, pacing up and down. Marcus couldn't understand what had just happened.

Just then, Carly emerged from the darkness, her silhouette barely discernible against the brick walls. As she stepped closer, the light revealed her eyes, which were worried.

“Marcus,” she said, her voice low and steady, “I saw her.”

Shadow turned sharply, mind linking to her. “What do you mean? Where is she?”

Carly hesitated, her jaw tightening as she searched for the right words. “I saw Lena… talking to them. It looked like she knew them, Marcus. She didn’t fight back. She… she went with them willingly.”

Marcus felt the confusion flowing through him. “No,” he growled,

Grateful for the mind link he shared with every Ross Pack member, Marcus asked confused.

“What do you mean?”

Carly shook her head, her expression grave.

“I thought so too, but I saw it with my own eyes. They were cloaked in shadows, but I could hear them. They were not just any strangers—they were connected.”

A deep growl rumbled in Shadow’s chest. He could not accept that Lena had chosen to leave. “We have to find her,” he insisted.

Carly nodded, her eyes wide and filled with concern. "I saw her, Marcus. She was standing with them, talking."

Marcus felt a surge of conflicting emotions—anger, betrayal, confusion. Lena was strong, fiercely independent. She wouldn’t just leave with strangers. “No,” Shadow growled, shaking his head, trying to quell the rage that threatened to explode.