Page 86 of To Carve A Wolf

“Well, well,” he drawled lazily. “Looks like thestrayfound her fangs after all.”

No grief. No rage. Just cold, bitter amusement, a cruel indifference that ignited something feral and violent inside me. The same way he'd casually slaughtered his own pack, the same way he'd threatened Andros and Dain and everything I held sacred. Roran had never loved anything beyond himself.

He wouldn't mourn Tanya like Andros would mourn me, wouldn't burn worlds or tear down mountains. Andros would bleed rivers if he lost me. Roran barely blinked at her death.

My hackles rose sharply, muscles trembling as I snarled deeply, ears flattened against my skull. And beneath Roran's confident mask, beneath his carefully maintained arrogance, I scented it clearly: the bitter stench of fear.

It leaked from his pores, sour and acrid. He feared me. Feared what I'd become. But he was still an Alpha, too proud and arrogant to bow before an Omega, even one that just ripped his companion to shreds. He would never surrender—not willingly.

He unsheathed his sword with a smooth hiss of steel, stepping forward with deadly calm.

“You really think you're something special now,” he growled, voice low and venomous. “You're nothing. A feral bitch playing at being wolf. No one will mourn your corpse, especially not that broken Alpha you think you love.”

His words stabbed deeper than any blade, rage roaring white-hot inside me.

I lunged forward, claws out, teeth snapping—

But he was fast, brutally skilled. His sword arced swiftly through the air, slicing deep into my chest. White-hot agony tore through my body, pain nearly blinding as blood splattered hot and thick across the stone. I stumbled, gasping, the wound pulsing, vision swimming dangerously.

Roran smiled cruelly, victorious, twisting the blade.

“Did you really think I'd let you walk away?” he mocked. “I'll end you here and now, mutt. And when your pathetic bond shatters, Andros will feel every moment of your death—right before I kill him too.”

He tossed his blade aside and shifted. Bones cracked, skin ripped open violently as he surged upward into a hulking, savage wolf—black as midnight, eyes blazing with arrogant bloodlust, teeth bared in a vicious snarl.

I staggered back, breath coming harsh and painful. Blood dripped from my wound, staining my fur dark crimson. But I didn't surrender. I would burn the fucking world to ashes before I let him touch my family again, or I would die trying to protect them.

Roran lunged.

His massive form collided with mine in an eruption of muscle and bone. Teeth tore across my shoulder, claws raked through my side. Blood sprayed the courtyard, hot and thick, painting the stone beneath us red.

I screamed and struck back, ripping into his flank with my jaws. The taste of his blood flooded my mouth. He howled and slammed me down, his weight crushing my ribcage. My vision dimmed, pain pulsing like a war drum in my skull.

We rolled across the stones, slashing, biting, tearing—two monsters locked in a frenzy of gore and hatred. My fur was soaked, my chest a torn, burning mess. My claws sank into his neck, but he wrenched free and sank his teeth into my leg, shaking hard until I felt something snap.

My body hit the ground with a sickening crack. I couldn’t move. Blood pooled beneath me. My lungs wheezed, broken. My limbs twitched uselessly, the final ounce of strength draining fast.

Roran loomed over me, eyes blazing, jaws wide, ready to finish it.

And then—I felt him.

A black wolf, larger than any I’d ever seen, tore through the smoke like death itself. Andros collided with Roran mid-leap, the impact a thunderclap of flesh and fury. They rolled across the courtyard in a brutal storm of snapping jaws and raking claws. Andros sank his fangs into Roran’s throat, ripping flesh free as blood exploded across the stones.

Roran struck back, carving deep into Andros’s side, but he didn’t stop. He drove him backward, blow after blow, a shadow of pure violence. Fur flew. Blood ran in rivers. The sound of bone shattering echoed through the courtyard.

I forced my body upright, broken bones grinding together, blood soaking the stone beneath me as I fought desperately for balance. My vision blurred, black and red swimming together, fury driving me forward—But Andros’s voice slammed through the bond, powerful, savage, undeniable.

“No.”

It was not a request. It was a command. Not mean. Not violent. Jut absolute and unyielding. My muscles froze, heart hammering wildly as his voice ripped through me again, fiercer this time, a wave of raw dominance and rage I’d never felt from him before.

“This fight is mine.”

He stood tall, drenched in blood and shadow, every inch the Alpha I’d once hated—now the Alpha I’d die for.

“This traitor raised his blade against me, betrayed my pack, dared to take what is mine—what I love.”

His words shook me, the possessive fury scorching through every nerve.

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