The Predator's Invincible Heir

Chapter 13: The Queen's Warning

Before Morrigan even began her incantations, she turned back to face the squad, her eyes sharp under the hood of her robes. "No matter what happens," she warned, her voice cutting through the damp night air, "do not charge or attack without an explicit order from me. No matter what you see, no matter what you think is happening, keep your cool until you are told otherwise. That is the only way you survive this night."

She dropped to her knees in the center of the clearing and unzipped an ancient leather bag. She pulled out a few jars, scattering dried herbs onto the damp earth, and placed a circle of candles around herself, lighting the largest, thickest one right in the middle. Then, she closed her eyes and began to speak in a low, rhythmic, strange tongue that probably only she understood.

Initially, it looked like a child's play—just an old witch whispering to the dark. But within seconds, the atmosphere violently shifted. The air grew thick, heavy, and suffocatingly cold.

Morrigan stopped chanting instantly. Her eyes flew open, and she began looking around the dark clearing frantically, a look of pure horror freezing her features. The candle flames began to flicker violently, and the dried leaves on the forest floor rose into a sudden, aggressive whirlwind around us.

Even in the dim, chaotic light of our flashlights, I could see the witch's eyes clearly. She was visibly trembling. She was terrified.

I darted a glance at my father. His arms had been tightly folded across his chest just a moment ago, but now his hands were down, his fingers hovering instinctively near his weapons. His jaw was slack, his chest heaving as he looked around the shadows. He was afraid too.

A suffocating, ancient aura pressed down on the clearing, so heavy it felt like it was crushing my inner wolf into submission. We could all feel the undeniable presence of something extraordinary.

"Morrigan, we meet again."

The voice boomed from everywhere and nowhere all at once. We spun around, tracking the sound, but saw absolutely nothing but empty air.

"Astraea?" the witch whispered, her voice shaking so badly she could barely pronounce the name.

"I thought your grandmother taught you well," the disembodied voice echoed, dripping with a terrifying, maternal weight. "She told you never to seek out a Leorix without a good reason. You forgot her lessons too soon, child."

"I am sorry," Morrigan choked out, bowing her head toward the empty space. "I didn't know it was you."

"You are aging, Morrigan. Is the passage of time crowding your reasoning too?"

"We didn't know what you were, or what you wanted," my father spoke up, trying to project his Alpha authority, though I could hear the slight tremor in his tone. "We only wanted to know what was lurking in our woods."

"Haha!" A booming, ironic chuckle rattled the trees. "Your woods? Alpha Michael, you actually wanted to see me so badly?"

Suddenly, a bright, blinding flash of light erupted from the center of the clearing where the voice was coming from. The brilliant glow put the entire squad into a panic; guards raised their hands to shield their eyes, growling as their vision blurred. After a few agonizing seconds, the light faded, and she materialized.

Here she was.

"Here I am, Michael. Let's talk," she said, gracefully lowering her massive body to sit on the forest floor, watching us with the casual, terrifying confidence of a tabby cat observing mice.

My god, she was massive. Aria had tried to describe her to me, but she hadn't done a good job at all. No words could have prepared me for this. She was, without a doubt, the most magnificent, breathtaking creature I had ever seen in my life. Her fur seemed to capture the very essence of the starlight, and her eyes burned with the wisdom of a thousand years.

"Did you say this is your land, Michael?" Astraea asked, tilting her massive head.

My father didn't respond. He stood completely frozen, too awestruck and paralyzed by her sheer presence to form a syllable.

"I have walked this land long before your earliest ancestors ever settled here," she said, slowly standing up on all fours, towering over the entire elite squad. "I have lived here in peace and disturbed no one. How dare you come into the dark to disturb me without provocation?"

"What do you want from us?" my father finally asked, finding a fragile thread of his voice. "Are you here in peace?"

"You don't get to ask me that, Michael," Astraea countered, and I could clearly hear the biting sarcasm vibrating through her tone. "What I want is nobody's business but my own. And whether I am here in peace is entirely for you to decide."

Then, she raised her voice. The sound vibrated right through the marrow of my bones as she roared, "I am Astraea, the queen of my realm! I answer to no one, and definitely not to mortals! You came to my clearing surrounded by armed soldiers, and yet you claim you come in peace?"

She took a massive step forward. "What do you think your pathetic weapons can do to me?" With a swift, blinding flick of her massive paw, she effortlessly knocked the assault rifle right out of the hands of the nearest guard.

The warrior, utterly terrified and acting on pure survival instinct, mistook the movement as a fatal attack. He lost his mind, let out a desperate growl, and charged right at her with his bare claws.

Astraea let out a low, angry groan. With a single, casual hit, she swiped her paw and sent the warrior flying through the air like a ragdoll.

In an instant, the entire clearing erupted into chaos. The remaining guards panicked, running around in complete confusion, firing wild shots into the dark. Astraea moved like lightning. She lunged, throwing a second soldier across the dirt, and then her massive jaws snapped shut around the legs of a third guard. A sickening crunch echoed through the trees as her teeth snapped his bones into pieces.

Then, she stood at her full height and roared.

The sheer power of the sound wave hit us like a physical wall. The raw, dominant authority forced every single one of us—including my Alpha father—to drop to our knees. We bowed, pressing our faces flat into the dirt in great fear, completely subdued by a power that made our alpha blood feel like water.

"Alpha, consider this your last warning," Astraea commanded, her voice booming over our shivering bodies as we cowered in the mud. "Don't ever go seeking out what does not seek you!"

The clearing went completely still for a second. Then, I felt her burning gaze shift directly onto me.

"Liam," she spoke, her tone suddenly softening into something deeply personal, yet firm. "I spared your people today because of you. Next time, I won't be too merciful."

Before I could even process what was happening, she lunged forward, blending into the wind, and completely disappeared into thin air.

The heavy pressure lifted from the clearing. I sat up slowly, my heart hammering against my ribs, my mind spinning in absolute shock.

Did she just call my name? How does she know who I am?

Shakingly, the squad pulled themselves up from the dirt. We gathered our broken weapons and began the agonizing task of carrying the wounded back toward the pack house. No one spoke a single word on the walk back. The silence was deafening.

I guess we had finally gotten the definitive answers to our questions. There was absolutely no doubt left in our minds that a real, living Leorix was inhabiting our woods. But what she truly wanted from us was a mystery that felt heavier and more dangerous than ever.

As I walked, I couldn't help but think about the massive contradiction. The Leorix I had just witnessed tonight, and the one Aria had described to me, seemed to be two completely different creatures. Aria had talked about a friendly, almost maternal, gentle giant. But tonight, I had looked into the eyes of a lethal, merciless, and deeply angry beast.

By the next morning, the crushing weight of her power became permanent. The elite soldier who had taken the bite to his leg stopped breathing. He died in the pack infirmary just after dawn, exactly as Morrigan had predicted.

No one ever survives the bite of a Leorix.