Kael
The door ripped from its hinges, crashing inward in a storm of wood and steel. The stench hit first—rot, blood, and madness. Rogues. A half dozen at least, their eyes glowing with feral hunger, their snarls rattling the air.
I didn't hesitate. My wolf surged up, breaking the last of my restraint, claws tearing free, bones shifting under skin until the world sharpened into brutal clarity.
The first rogue lunged. My claws met his throat mid-air, shredding flesh, hot blood spraying across the cabin floor. His body hit the wall and crumpled, but another took his place before the first hit the ground.
The cabin erupted in chaos. Teeth snapping, claws slashing, snarls and screams tearing through the night. The small space became a cage, every breath filled with blood and smoke.
"Elara!" I roared, throwing one wolf back with a crack of bone. "Stay down!"
But she didn't.
I caught a glimpse of her on the bed, her hands gripping the blanket so hard her knuckles blanched. Her chest heaved, silver eyes glowing brighter and brighter until the firelight itself seemed to bend toward her.
Another rogue lunged, aiming for her. Fury exploded in my chest. I ripped him from the air, slammed him into the table until it splintered, then tore him apart before he could so much as lay a claw on her.
My lungs burned, my ribs screamed, but none of it mattered. Not when the bond was pulsing like a second heartbeat, dragging me back to her again and again.
"Elara!" I shouted again, voice raw. "Control it—don't let it out—"
But it was too late. Her scream ripped through the cabin, high and piercing, not human, not wolf—something else. The air itself shuddered. The flames in the hearth flared white-hot, licking the ceiling.
The rogues faltered. For the briefest second, they froze, ears flat, eyes wide. And then, as if some unseen command had been given, they all turned—every feral gaze snapping to her.
Not me. Her.
The blood in my veins went cold.
"Elara," I growled, forcing myself between her and them, claws dripping. My wolf howled inside me, desperate, savage. "Stay behind me. No matter what happens."
But even as I said it, I knew the truth. They hadn't come for me. They'd come for her.
The cabin was no longer a cabin. It was a slaughterhouse. Wood splintered under claws, blood slicked the floor, the walls shook with the weight of bodies slamming against them. My wolf ripped and tore, every strike fueled by rage, by instinct, by the bond screaming at me to keep her safe.
But they kept coming. For every rogue I cut down, another forced its way through the ruined doorway. The stench was suffocating. My lungs burned, my vision blurred, and still I fought.
One slipped past me.
"Elara!" I bellowed, shoving two wolves back with a desperate swing of my claws. My heart crashed in my chest as the rogue leapt for her.
But before I could move—before I could even breathe—she screamed.
Not words. Not human.
The sound cracked through the cabin like lightning. The walls shuddered, the air itself vibrated with raw power. Silver light burst from her eyes, her hands, her very skin, blinding and wild.
The rogue froze mid-air, howling, claws raking the air uselessly. His body convulsed as if held by invisible chains. Then—snapped. His neck twisted with a sharp, sickening crack, and he crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
For a heartbeat, the entire pack faltered. Every feral eye locked onto her, ears flat, hackles raised. Not fear, not hunger—something sharper. Recognition.
"Elara," I growled, forcing myself between her and them again, though my breath came ragged and my wounds screamed. "Stop. You'll burn yourself out."
But she didn't stop.
Her body shook, sweat dripping down her temple, but her eyes blazed brighter, her power pulsing like a second sun inside the ruined cabin. The flames in the hearth roared higher, shadows stretching and twisting across the walls.
Another rogue lunged—and she raised her hand without touching him. He slammed into the far wall so hard the wood cracked, ribs shattering, his scream cut off in a wet gurgle.
My wolf went still. For the first time, not at the enemy, but at her.
The rogues hesitated. They circled warily now, snarls uncertain, their bloodlust checked by something older, stronger. They knew. Somehow, they knew what she was, even if I didn't.
And so did I. This wasn't omega power. This wasn't anything I'd ever seen.
"Elara," I rasped, chest heaving as I cut down another rogue trying to close the distance. My claws dripped, my vision blurred, but I forced my voice through the chaos. "You have to stop. You'll kill yourself."
Her gaze flicked to me for the barest second, silver light flickering, and I swore I felt it again—that bond, that pull, not just instinct but something ancient.
"I can't," she whispered, her voice breaking, tears glistening. "If I stop… we die."
And then she screamed again—louder, fiercer, shaking the earth beneath us.
Her scream split the air like a blade. Power poured out of her, raw and unrestrained, shaking the ground, rattling the bones of the rogues around us. Some staggered, ears bleeding. One crumpled where he stood, his body limp, lifeless before he hit the ground.
But she was unraveling with it.
"Elara!" I roared, fighting through the frenzy, tearing down another wolf that lunged for her. His blood sprayed my face, hot and sharp, but I didn't care. I had no time to care. She swayed where she stood, her skin glowing with that impossible silver light, her chest heaving like she couldn't breathe.
I knew that look. I'd seen wolves burn themselves out before, when they pulled too much power from their beasts. But this—this wasn't just her wolf. This was something else. Something tearing her apart from the inside.
"Pull it back!" I snarled, raking my claws across a rogue's throat. His body dropped at my feet, twitching. "You'll kill yourself!"
Her gaze met mine, silver fire dimming just enough for me to see the fear there. I don't know how, her lips shaped the words without sound.
And then I understood. She wasn't controlling it. It was controlling her.
The rogues regrouped, their snarls rising in a vicious chorus. But they weren't charging blindly anymore. They circled, coordinated, waiting for an opening. Their eyes—feral but cunning—kept flicking past me, to her.
And suddenly, it hit me like ice water. They weren't here to kill her. They were here to take her. My wolf snapped inside me, feral rage exploding through every nerve. No one would touch her. Not while I still drew breath.
I tore into them with a savagery that bordered on madness, claws ripping, teeth snapping. My body screamed with pain—my ribs tearing with every movement, blood pouring from a dozen wounds—but none of it mattered. The bond thundered in me, every strike fueled by it.
But there were too many.
One rogue slipped past me. Then another. Elara tried to scream again, but the sound choked in her throat, her body shaking violently. The glow in her eyes flickered, dimming like a flame fighting the wind.
"No—" I lunged, too slow. One of them had her by the arm, dragging her off the bed with a snarl, his claws digging into her skin. She cried out, silver light flashing, but it sputtered like dying embers.
"Kael!"
Her voice tore through me, shredding what little control I had left. My vision bled red. My wolf surged forward, ripping through the last of my restraint, and I let it.
Bones snapped. My body shifted fully, fur bursting across my skin, claws lengthening, teeth stretching into fangs. The beast took over, and the world drowned in blood and rage.
The wolf exploded out of me in a storm of bone and blood. The world narrowed to scent and sound and rage. Rogues. Enemies. Threats. Every heartbeat not mine was prey.
I tore the first apart, his body splitting beneath my claws, his scream cut short in a wet snap. Another lunged—I ripped his leg clean from his body, his blood spraying hot across the walls. I turned before he even hit the ground, already tearing into the next.
The cabin was chaos, filled with snarls and howls and the sound of flesh rending. The wolf inside me—I—rejoiced in it, savage and unrelenting. There was no thought. No reason. Only kill. Protect. Destroy.
Somewhere through the haze, I heard her voice.
"Kael!"
It barely pierced the fog. I slashed through another rogue, his spine crunching in my jaws, the taste of iron filling my mouth.
"Kael, stop!"
The word stop meant nothing. Nothing could stop me. Nothing would. And then—silence.
I turned, chest heaving, dripping with blood that wasn't mine. The cabin floor was slick with it, bodies piled in broken heaps, their eyes glazed and empty. Every rogue lay dead.
Every one but her.
Elara.
She stood pressed against the far wall, her silver eyes wide, her face pale, blood smeared across her cheek. Her chest rose and fell in rapid bursts, her hands trembling at her sides.
Her gaze locked with mine—and the bond roared, fierce and undeniable, more powerful than any hunger. But my wolf didn't see mate. Didn't see safety. It saw prey.
I stepped toward her, claws dripping red, my body shaking with the need to finish it. The beast snarled inside me, demanding more blood, more release.
"Kael…" Her voice cracked, soft, breaking, tears shimmering in her eyes. "Please. It's me."
The wolf growled low, taking another step, closing the distance. Her hand lifted, trembling, reaching toward me as if she could touch past the beast. For one terrible heartbeat, I didn't know if I would take her hand…
…or tear her throat out.