Rejected and Broken: Claimed by the Warring Alpha

Chapter 3

Iskra

The decision to leap was instinct. The descent was a blur of gravity and pure kinetic energy. I aimed not for a killing blow, but a neutralizing shock. My body, driven by Vespera’s desperate momentum, slammed into the lead wolf the one positioned directly over the pup. The impact was deafening, the air rushing out of the rogue’s lungs in a thick, wet c***k. I heard the awful, satisfying noise of his spine buckling as he collapsed beneath me, his howl of agony quickly strangled. One less.

I scrambled off, putting my body immediately between the fallen pup and the four wolves who now fixed their predatory, dead eyes on me.

These weren't just random rogues. Their formation, their coordinated shift in focus, and their scent stale and laced with Kaelen’s signature aggression confirmed my fear. These were remnants of the Obsidian Pack, Kaelen’s loyalists. They wouldn't recognize the rogue scent of the wolf before them as their former Luna, but I knew every one of them, every scar, every predictable move honed in the Obsidian training grounds. This was no longer a rescue; it was a personal reckoning.

Their first assault was a calculated wave. The two fastest wolves feinted high and low. Knowing their pattern from years of spar-drills, I dropped low, allowing the high attacker to sail over Vespera's back while simultaneously twisting to meet the low attacker.

CRUNCH.

Vespera’s jaws met the ascending wolf's face, her teeth splintering his lower jawbone. He stumbled back, disoriented and screaming silently through a ruined muzzle. But I couldn't savor the small victory. I felt the teeth of a second wolf, massive and powerful, sink deep into my flank. He didn’t just bite; he held and yanked, ripping the skin and muscle sideways, dragging me off balance.

A searing, liquid heat erupted from the wound. I gritted my teeth, ignoring the agony as Vespera ripped her torso free, leaving a ragged chunk of her flesh behind. The adrenaline of the dive and the fight flooded my system, a brief, bitter reprieve from the pain.

The third wolf, aiming for the lethal, vulnerable line of my throat, was too eager. Vespera rolled mid-lunge, a maneuver born of desperation. Her hind claws raked upward across the wolf’s belly, a blinding flash of silver fur followed by a hot spray of blood that stained the air. The wolf staggered back, momentarily stunned by the shallow but painful strike.

The movement had taken us a crucial distance from the pup, which was the intent. ‘Run, little one. While they are focused,’ I pleaded mentally, though he couldn't hear.

The remaining three rogues adjusted their strategy. They stopped the individual attacks, forming a ruthless triangle around me. The original two, recognizing the Luna’s dangerous, unorthodox fighting style, came in together. The wolf with the wounded belly lunged first, a distraction. As Vespera focused on him, the powerful rogue who had torn my flank attacked from the blind side.

It was too fast. The flanking wolf, sensing my distraction, clamped down on Vespera’s front left leg with devastating force. I heard the sickening sound of bone splintering, a sharp, white-hot explosion of pain that tore an involuntary, choked howl from Vespera.

The world went momentarily grey. The pain was absolute, crushing. The wolf holding my flank tore away with a mouthful of skin and meat, satisfied he had crippled me.

I fell, my broken leg useless. The rogue with the shattered jaw, still functional, attempted to pin Vespera to the ground. In a desperate, final twitch of strength, Vespera used her back claws, swiping blindly, but decisively. The claws found the soft underside of the pinned wolf's body, slicing through the abdominal wall. He screamed, his intestines spilling out onto the dirt in a gruesome, steaming mess.

Two down, one paralyzed, two standing.

Vespera tried to rise, dragging her useless left front leg beneath her. She was bleeding profusely from the flank and the terrible tear on the back of her neck, sustained in the first attack. The adrenaline was burning out, and the pain began to assert itself, radiating agony from the broken limb. She held the leg stiffly off the ground, standing on three points, panting heavily.

The two remaining wolves, one of them the massive Beta I now recognized as Marth, circled, their confidence returning. They understood the mathematics of the fight: I was mortally wounded.

Iskra focused on the movements of Marth. His eyes were cold, professional. He was one of Kaelen's most reliable enforcers, and I had trained against him hundreds of times in the pack’s sparring pits. I knew his tells. I knew his arrogance.

The two rogues split, intending a final, coordinated attack on my exposed left side. Vespera tried to compensate, hopping frantically to keep her strong right side facing Marth, but the ground was slick with blood, and her movements were slow.

As expected, the lesser rogue dove low for my right front leg the functional one. Vespera shifted her weight to dodge, but the distraction was fatal. Marth, moving with brutal efficiency, grabbed Vespera’s right hind leg, pulling sharply and twisting at a terrible, unnatural angle.

POP.

The dislocation of her hip tore a fresh, agonizing shriek from Vespera. Her rear leg flopped uselessly. She was down to one good leg the front right and her will.

She snapped her head around, grazing Marth’s face, forcing him to release the limb and back away.

Just as the second rogue prepared to capitalize on my collapse, a high-pitched cry pierced the air, closer this time.

“LOOK OUT!”

I heard a heavy thud and a wet, gurgling yelp from the rogue behind me. The sound gave Vespera the fraction of a second she needed. She rolled, pushing the downed rogue off her with her good foreleg, the movement sending blinding spasms through her broken and dislocated limbs.

I could feel Vespera pulling on every last reserve. The pain was too intense, too pervasive. She can't stand again.

‘We’re done, Vespera. You saved him.’

‘Not done. One more. Marth is untouched. We take him with us,’ Vespera sent back, her voice a ragged echo of iron determination. ‘We couldn’t save our own. We save this one.’

Iskra’s resolve blended with her wolf’s: sacrifice was the only option. I looked at Marth. He was slightly favoring his left hind leg a small injury from the last exchange, but enough to introduce a subtle flaw in his predictable strategy.

‘He’s going to feint high, then come in low for the throat, expecting us to drop,’ I mind-linked Vespera, focusing on the memory of the training session.

Marth lunged, a large, black blur of muscle and fury. But Vespera launched herself first, an impossible feat given her injuries. She intercepted him in mid-air. As predicted, Marth dropped low, aiming for the kill. But Vespera was already on top of him. Her teeth clamped down instantly, not on his throat, but on the side of his neck, tearing viciously, searching for the spine.

The two crashed, rolling violently. Vespera didn't release the hold until she felt the bone crush. Marth’s final yelp was cut short, his body going instantly slack.

Vespera shoved the dead Beta off her and stumbled to her three good paws, then fell, unable to sustain the weight. She vaguely registered the other rogue: lying dead, a jagged, blood-smeared rock driven into his neck. The pup was no longer helpless.

The fight was over. The cost was everything.

Vespera released the shift. The transformation back to human form was the worst pain Iskra had ever known, worse than childbirth, worse than the rejection. Her bones knit and re-broke in terrible alignment, the broken leg resetting with an audible snap that ripped a screaming, raw sound from her lips.

A small, firm hand was on her shoulder instantly.

“You saved me,” the boy Rhys whispered, his voice trembling but determined. He was covered in blood, his own and the rogue’s. He gently lifted Iskra’s head, resting it in his lap. “My father is coming. He’s the Alpha. You have to hold on.”

Iskra tried to focus on his face, his bright, frantic eyes.

“You should run,” Iskra coughed, the metallic taste of her own blood thick in her mouth. “Run, little Alpha. Get away from here.”

The scent of his tears hitting her face was clean, powerful, and overwhelming. Alpha pup. The scent was unmistakable now that she was close. They hadn't just been attacking a child; they were trying to decapitate a pack.

Rhys shook his head fiercely. “No. I won’t leave you. You saved me.”

Iskra wanted to argue, to push him away before his father arrived, before she had to explain the five dead wolves, before she revealed the truth of her lineage. But her vision was already fading. The blood loss was too profound.

‘We saved him, Vespera.’

‘Yes. It is a worthy exit,’ her wolf replied, the exhaustion in her voice absolute.

And then, as the sounds of rapidly approaching wolves Aydin's pack broke through the tree line, the world went dark.