Page 78 of Claiming His Rejected Mate

I see it in their faces—the way some of them straighten, the way others exchange glances.

Their Alpha has spoken.

I don’t move.

Not when the murmurs turn into nods. Not when warriors start shifting, forming their lines, looking to me now as well as Kieran.

I don’t move.

Because for the first time since coming back to Moonfang—I don’t feel like an outsider. Or a tool.

I feel like a leader.

I feel like myself.

Chapter 25

Kieran

One of the warriors runs up to us, panting. The wildness in his eyes tells me all I need to know.

“Eldon’s men have breached the first barrier,” the warrior announces.

“Send word to all the troops to take formation and advance.”

I turn to my warriors and my wolf comes forward. They all look to me, eyes shining with the keenness to fight for our pack. There is no need for words, there is no need to remind them of why we fight. Of the ashes we come from. Of the strength it took to rebuild.

I feel it through the pack link. I hold Hazel’s hand in mine and raise it.

“For Moonfang!” I chant.

“For Moonfang!” My wolves respond, some breaking into howls, others shifting and barking. They are bloodthirsty, they are ready to tear the invaders limb from limb.

Eldon’s forces advance toward the estate in waves—wolves, bears, other shifter rogues and Moonfang traitors woven into a monstrous force hungry for blood. The air is thick with the scent of war, of dampearth, sweat, and animosity that has been festering for goddess knows how long, culminating in this moment.

My wolf prowls beneath my skin, eager for the fight, for the chance to end this war before it can destroy what I’ve built.

But before we move, Hazel steps beside me.

She’s clad in battle gear, her frame smaller than mine, but no less fierce. She can’t shift into her wolf yet. Until then, she has to battle in gear. One thing that I won’t let happen again is losing her.

Her storm-gray eyes flick to mine, sharp and assessing. I can feel the tension humming in her muscles, the anticipation that burns as brightly in her as it does in me. She’s ready to maim and kill. I feel her wolf’s energy beneath her flesh. I have no doubt she will deal damage.

“Try not to die,” she murmurs, adjusting the grip on her weapon.

I smirk, the edge of war momentarily forgotten. “You’d miss me.” My tease earns me a smile.

She scoffs but doesn’t deny it.

For a moment, the battlefield fades away. There’s only her—the wild fire in her eyes, the sharp curve of her lips, the way her scent wraps around me like a force I can’t escape.

I reach for her, just briefly, my fingers brushing against hers. “Fight smart.”

She tilts her head, a ghost of a smile playing at her lips. “Try to catch up.”

I love it when she’s cocky.

Then, like a gust of wind, she’s gone—leading her own warriors into the fray with a chant.

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