Chapter 56: The Roar of the Silver Moon
The night air was shattered by the clash of steel and the guttural roars of wolves. The Northern Rogues had breached the outer perimeter, their eyes glowing with a frenzied hunger. But they hadn't expected the Silver Moon Pack to be waiting for them.
At the front of the line stood Silas. His wolf was massive, his silver-grey fur bristling with lethal intent. With a deafening howl that shook the very ground, he charged into the fray. Every strike of his claws was a testament to his power, tearing through the invaders like they were nothing more than shadows.
But the Rogues were cunning. While the main force kept Silas occupied, a smaller, elite group slipped through the side gates, heading straight for the pack house. Their target was clear: Elara.
Inside the hall, Elara felt the shift in the air. Her heart hammered against her ribs, but her hands were steady as she gripped her silver dagger. She could hear them—the heavy, rhythmic breathing of predators in the corridor.
The doors burst open. Three massive Rogues snarled at her, their teeth bared in a mockery of a grin. "The Alpha's toy," one of them hissed. "Let's see how much he loves you when you're cold."
Elara didn't scream. She didn't beg. Instead, she felt a cold, ancient power rising from the depths of her soul. Her eyes began to glow with a brilliant, moonlight white.
"I am no one's toy," she whispered, her voice echoing with a strange, otherworldly authority.
As the first Rogue lunged, Elara moved with a speed that shouldn't have been humanly possible. The fight for the Silver Moon had begun, and the 'Broken Omega' was about to show the world that a wounded wolf is the most dangerous one of all.