claimed by my mate's enemy

BENEATH THE SHADOWS

“You felt the same, too?” I asked, but before I could steady my voice, his growl cut through me like a blade.

“Who are you?” he shouted, ignoring my question completely. His tone wasn’t a calm inquiry—it was a demand, sharp and rough, as though my very presence offended him.

My chest tightened, anger rising to the surface. “You go first!” I snapped back, my voice echoing harsher than I intended. “And what are you even doing in this dangerous forest, moving like a shadow?”

He stopped, a faint smirk twisting across his lips. “Ladies first,” he replied, as if this were some kind of game.

I narrowed my eyes, refusing to be toyed with. “You approached me, so introduce yourself. Don’t twist this.” My words spat out, firm, laced with defiance.

His eyes locked onto mine, steady and unblinking. “I am Darius.” His voice carried a weight that pressed down on me.

“Okay, I’m Lyra, from—” Before I could even finish my sentence, footsteps thundered against the ground. My breath caught in my throat as the shadows erupted.

“Rogues!!”

They burst from every side, snarling, armed with crude blades and jagged weapons glinting in the dim light. Their eyes glowed with hunger for blood. Before I had time to react, they lunged.

Darius moved like a phantom.

One second, he stood in front of me; the next, he was gone—his body a blur of motion. He didn’t fight like an ordinary wolf—his movements were precise, silent, and lethal, like an assassin trained in darkness.

A rogue swung his axe toward me, but Darius was already there, twisting the attacker’s wrist until bone cracked loud enough to echo. The weapon clattered to the ground, and Darius shoved the blade straight through the rogue’s throat in one motion. Blood sprayed, hot and violent, staining his chest.

I couldn’t move. All I could do was watch as the fight spiraled into c*****e. More rogues surrounded him, circling like vultures. One lunged with a spear, another swung a sword, the third crept behind, and more charged recklessly. Darius caught the spear midair with one hand, twisted it free, and hurled it backward—straight into the chest of the rogue creeping up from behind.

The others attacked at once, roaring, blades swinging. Darius didn’t flinch. He met the first head-on, smashing his skull against the rogue’s face until bone split, shards spraying, before the second’s blade could strike.

The forest became chaos incarnate. Snarls erupted from every direction. Blades flashed, voices roared, and death followed each motion. Darius moved with terrifying efficiency, his muscles coiled like steel springs. He ducked under swinging blades, slammed bodies into trees, tore weapons from hands, and used them against their owners with a feral precision that left no room for mercy.

A rogue slashed at my shoulder, close enough to draw blood, but Darius intercepted him mid-strike. He ripped the man’s weapon arm off at the elbow, then threw him to the ground, dragging another rogue down in the same movement. The screams echoed through the forest, blending with snarls, growls, and the clash of steel and flesh.

I stumbled backward, trying to find safety, heart pounding like a drum. I couldn’t believe how many there were—how many wanted me dead, or him dead, or both. And Darius? He was unrelenting, his every move savage, efficient, and deadly. He fought like someone who had mastered the rogues’ attack for long.

Blood coated everything. The smell of it was thick, metallic, and choking. The ground was littered with bodies, some still moving weakly, others already lifeless.

A massive rogue swung a spiked club at Darius, but he caught it midair, twisting the weapon until the rogue screamed, dropping it. Darius’s claws shot out like lightning, tearing through muscle and sinew. The man collapsed, utterly destroyed.

Two more came from behind him. Darius twisted, swept one leg out, toppling the other rogue into him, and both went down in a tangle of limbs and blood. One tried crawling away; Darius’s leap was impossible to track, landing on him with a force that shattered bones.

Finally, when the last rogue standing realized he couldn’t escape, Darius launched at him like a death incarnate, claws and fangs a perfect storm of pain. The man tried to raise his weapon, but Darius tore it from his hands, impaled him, then left him slumped and broken, gasping.

The forest fell silent except for ragged breathing, the groans of the wounded, and Darius’s low growls as he surveyed the c*****e. I was frozen, eyes wide, barely daring to exhale. He had moved like a savage ghost, like an assassin born of shadow and blood, leaving nothing alive to threaten me.

Finally, he turned to me. His chest rose and fell with controlled breaths. His gaze pinned me—hard, dangerous, alive with a feral energy I couldn’t describe.

“This forest is too dangerous,” he said flatly. “Return now—or blame yourself for whatever happens to you.”

I kept mute. Words tangled in my throat. The sight of him—feral, dripping with the aftermath of slaughter—left me shaken in a way I couldn’t admit.

His gaze pinned me again. “Where are you coming from? I could take you back,” Darius said, his tone more commanding than offering.

I swallowed, my voice barely steady. “I was heading to Crescent Pack.”

At that, he stepped closer, his presence towering. “Then go back and begin your journey tomorrow. You’ll pass through the forest before nightfall that way.” His tone was sharp, practical, as though my existence was a problem to solve.

But I couldn’t hold back. “I can’t,” I whispered. “I’ve been sent out, told never to return.”

His eyes narrowed—a flicker of something, disbelief maybe—before his voice sharpened again. “Who made such a cruel decision, sending you out at this hour?”

The words burned my tongue as I forced them out. “My mate. Alpha Kaelric.”

I still had more words in my mouth, pain pressing to spill out, when Darius’s sudden roar tore through me.

“Enough!!”

And in that moment, the forest went blur to me in shock.