"Shields! Tight, you bastards! Don't give them an inch!"
The thud of the ram against the side gates vibrated through the soles of my boots. The castle stone shuddered like a living beast in agony.
"Alpha, they're coming over the parapet!" one of the warriors spat, choking on the acrid smoke.
"Knock them down! Pikes up! Pour the oil, move it if you want to see the dawn!"
My blade slid into the joint of another attacker's armor with a sickening squelch. The wolf inside me reared up, claws scraping the inside of my ribs. More. I want more. Let them drown in it.
"Cale! Cale, back up!"
I spun around, nearly taking Garrett's head off. He was slumped against a pillar, clutching his side. Dark, thick blood pulsed through his fingers.
"What the hell are you doing here? Your post is on the south side!"
"They... they broke through," Garrett wheezed, his face as gray as ash. "Through the moat. They were focused. We were overrun in a minute."
"Who?"
"Silverclaws. A whole squad. Cale, they... they've breached the residential wing."
The world froze for a heartbeat. The sounds of battle—the clashing of steel, the screams of the dying, the roar of flames—faded into the background. In my chest, where the invisible thread to Alina stretched, something flared. A searing, sharp pain, as if a white-hot needle had been driven into my heart.
"To her?"
"They were shouting about the girl. Cale, wait! Where are you going? The command—"
"To hell with command!" I shoved him aside, nearly knocking him over. "Bastian! Take the courtyard! Let no one leave alive!"
"But Alpha—"
"That's an order!"
I lunged into the depths of the castle. Моy boots skidded on stone slabs slick with mud and blood. Everything inside me howled. Alina's terror washed over me in waves—sticky and panicked. She was suffocating there, and I was wasting seconds on the stairwells.
The scent. Through the stench of ozone and burnt flesh, a faint, barely perceptible aroma broke through—sage and mint.
"Bastards," I hissed, leaping three steps at a time.
The south wing corridor was dark. Torches in their rings were burning out, sending up oily plumes of smoke. Two men stood at her door. Gray cloaks, steel masks for faces.
"Use your shoulder!" one growled, leaning against the oak door. "Damian's orders: take her alive. Damage the merchandise, and you'll take her place."
"She's a tough bitch..." the second spat. "Hey, girl! Open up the easy way, or it'll be worse for you!"
I didn't slow down. A guttural growl escaped me, vibrating in my chest.
"Turn around, you piece of shit."
They jerked simultaneously. The first barely managed to raise his sword before I closed the distance. Beastly speed isn't magic; it's pure rage turned into motion. My blade ripped through his throat before he even realized I was upon him.
"Alpha..." the second wheezed, backing against the wall. "You should be in the courtyard..."
"I should be where my enemies are."
He was faster than the first. The thrust was precise, aimed at the throat. I dodged, but the steel slashed my right shoulder, tearing through skin and fabric. Pain? No. Only fuel for the wolf.
I caught his arm, snapping his wrist. The crunch of bone was sweeter than any music.
"Damian..." he started, gasping.
"Damian will come for your corpse."
I slammed the back of his head into the stonework. Once. Again. Until the mask cracked and everything beneath it turned into a bloody pulp.
The silence in the corridor became deafening. Blood dripped from my sword onto the floor. Drip. Drip. Drip.
The lock clicked. The door creaked open slowly.
There she stood on the threshold. Pale as death. Her chemise was askew on her shoulder, her hair disheveled, her eyes huge and filled with horror. She wasn't looking at me. She was looking at the bodies.
I took a step forward.
"Alina."
She recoiled, pressing into the doorframe. She was shaking so hard her teeth rattled.
"You... you're covered in blood..." her voice dropped to a whisper.
"Get back."
I grabbed her shoulders. My fingers left red marks on the thin fabric. Roughly, without gauging my strength, I shoved her back into the room and slammed the door, cutting off the sight of the dead.
"Cale, you're hurt," she reached for my shoulder, her fingers trembling. "There's so much blood, we need to—"
"Stay still. Be quiet."
I pinned her against the wall by the window. My hands braced against the stone on either side of her head, blocking any escape. I smelled of smoke, death, and sweat. I saw my reflection in her pupils—there was a beast there.
"Did they touch you?" my voice sounded like grinding gravel.
"No... they were only pounding on the door... Cale, let go, you're hurting me..."
I ignored her plea, bearing down with my full weight. The bond between us pulsed like an open wound. Every frantic breath she took echoed in me as a flare of possessive instinct.
"They came for you," I lowered my head, inhaling the scent of her neck. "Do you understand? They know."
"Know what?" she gasped, her chest brushing my cuirass. "I didn't do anything... Cale, please..."
"Quiet."
I ran a blood-stained palm over her cheek, smearing her skin crimson. A symbolic brand. Mine.
"You are not leaving this room. Even if the castle crumbles. Even if I am dying. You stay here."
"You're scaring me..." her voice faltered, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. "Your eyes... they're completely yellow."
"Be afraid," I breathed against her lips. "Fear everyone outside. Fear Damian. Fear anyone who even looks your way. But here..."
I pressed a little harder on her shoulders, making her cry out.
"Here, you belong to me. Try to run, and I'll track you by scent. Try to hide, and I'll burn down the forest to get to you."
"Why?" she suddenly stopped shaking, looking me straight in the face. "Why me, Cale? Am I just... medicine? A tool?"
I bared my teeth. The wolf inside gave a satisfied purr.
"Because you are the only place where I still feel alive. And I won't let them take that from me."
A crash sounded outside—it seemed part of the courtyard wall had collapsed. The screams grew louder.
"You have to go," Alina whispered. "Your people are out there. They'll kill you."
"Let them try."
I pulled away sharply but immediately caught her chin, forcing her to look at me.
"Bolt the door. No matter whose voice you hear—do not open it. If it isn't me..."
"Then what?"
"Then kill yourself with the first thing you can grab. Because what Damian will do to you is a thousand times worse than death."
"Will you come back?"
I looked at my hand—the enemies' blood had already begun to dry, tightening my skin.
"I always come back for what is rightfully mine."
I turned and left without looking back. Behind me, the bolt clicked. Good. Now I had only one task: to slaughter everyone who dared to think she was easy prey.
The corridor met me with silence and the smell of death. I picked up my sword. My shoulder stung, but it was the right kind of pain.
"Alright, you bastards," I growled into the empty hallway. "Let's see whose fangs are sharper."
I broke into a run, returning to the hell of the courtyard. This was no longer just a defense of the castle. This was a hunt. And I was the hungriest predator in the pack.
Stairs, a turn, another flight. Two guards met me.
"Alpha! Breach on the east wall!"
"Drive them toward the gates!" I shouted over the roar of the fire. "Pin them in a pocket!"
"There are too many of them, Cale!"
"Then kill them faster! Where's Bastian?"
"At the main gate, holding the line!"
"Get there, now!"
I burst into the courtyard. The heat hit my face. The sky above the castle had turned crimson.
"Cale!" Bastian was hacking left and right, his armor completely drenched in black. "Where the hell have you been?!"
"Handling personal matters."
I plunged into the thick of the fight. My blade sang, shearing through flesh and bone. Every strike was precise, measured. The wolf no longer demanded blood—it was celebrating.
"They're retreating!" someone shouted from the parapet. "Look! The Silverclaws are pulling back!"
I stopped, breathing hard. The attackers were indeed starting to back toward the smashed gates. Not in chaos, but organized, covering themselves with shields.
"Why?" Bastian approached me, wiping his sword on a fallen enemy's cloak. "They had the advantage. They could have pushed through."
I looked at the south wing. In one of the third-floor windows, a faint candle flickered.
"Because they got what they came for," I gripped the hilt of my sword until my knuckles turned white.
"But they're leaving empty-handed? We drove them back!"
"No, Bastian. They learned the most important thing."
"What's that?"
I turned to him. My eyes still burned with amber light.
"They found out where my weakness is. And now, that's the only place they'll strike."
Bastian followed my gaze.
"The girl?"
"She's not just a 'girl.' She's the reason this castle is still standing. And the reason I'll level their camp to the ground tomorrow."
I spat blood onto the stones and headed toward the forge. I needed to get my weapons in order. Tomorrow, the war would change its face. And I would need much more than just rage to hold onto what I had just marked as mine.
"Garrett!" I barked over my shoulder.
"Yes, Alpha?" the wounded warrior answered, limping toward me.
"Double the guards at the south wing. If so much as a mouse slips past..."
"I know, Cale. You'll slit my throat yourself."
"Exactly. Move it."
I walked through the smoke, feeling the beast within quiet down, replaced by cold, calculating hatred. Damian made a mistake. He made me fear for someone. And an Alpha with nothing to lose is far less dangerous than an Alpha protecting his territory.
Alina was my territory. And today I proved it—mostly to myself.