Page 24 of Alpha's Heir

Alone in the moonlit clearing, with the guardian's presence retreating into the darkness, I was left with nothing but the cold embrace of defeat.

In the quiet that followed, my legs gave out, and I crumpled to the ground, the damp earth soaking through my skin. A sob wracked my body, a lonely sound for a lonely, desperate moment. My last hope had walked away, as silent and enigmatic as the forest he protected.

The trees stood sentinel around me, and I felt their watchful presence. The forest was alive, but it was a different kind of life now—one tainted by darkness, by the creeping rot of magic gone wrong. I closed my eyes, the tears streaming unchecked.

This was it, then. The end of the road. I couldn't face Weston, couldn’t tell him I had come up empty, not when I’d put myself and our baby at risk.

But even as I wallowed, there was a stir in the air, a whisper through the leaves. The forest was speaking, not with words, but with a rustling promise that brushed against my skin, raised goosebumps along my flesh.

It wasn't over. It couldn't be. I wiped my face, smearing dirt and salt and determination into a mask of resolve. I would find another way. I had to.

Chapter twelve

Weston

Thenightwrappedaroundme like a cloak, shadows dancing as flames flickered, casting grotesque shapes upon the destroyed remains of what was once home to some of my pack. My hands were blackened with soot, blood, and grime as I sifted through the rubble, looking for anything that could be salvaged. My muscles screamed in protest, exhaustion gnawed at my bones, but I couldn't stop—not while Cora was still out there, not while my pack needed me.

"Hey, Weston, catch!" It was Jared, tossing me a half-singed photo album. I caught it, the cover warm to the touch. "Found it under a beam," he said with a weary shrug.

I flipped it open, the faces of the pack members staring back at me from happier times, and a lump formed in my throat. "Thanks, man. They'll want this."

Jared nodded, his eyes hollow with fatigue. "We got lucky," he muttered, "could've been worse."

A hollow laugh escaped me. "Yeah, lucky," I echoed. Luck wasn't a word I'd use for tonight, not by a long shot.

We kept at it, the lot of us, salvaging what little we could. Every so often, my gaze would dart to the forest line, half-expecting, half-dreading to see Cora emerge—or something worse.

"You're doing that thing again," Jenna, our healer, said, catching me mid-glance. She was patching up a young pack member's arm, her hands steady but her brow furrowed with concern.

"What thing?" I grunted, tossing a charred piece of wood aside.

"Staring at the woods like you might will her to come out just by looking hard enough." She tied off the bandage and moved to the next wounded.

I didn't bother to answer. She wasn't wrong.

The sky began to lighten, a soft gray seeping into the black as dawn approached. With it came the reality that Cora had been gone too long. I could feel it in my gut—she was alive, I knew that much. But alive didn't mean safe.

"Weston," Jenna called out, her voice urgent. "This one's been bitten!"

I was at her side in an instant, my heart pounding. A young boy, no more than sixteen, his eyes wild with fear as he clutched his bleeding side.

"Is it...?" I didn't finish the sentence, but Jenna understood.

She nodded grimly. "Shadow wolf bite. It's already starting to fester."

"Fuck." The word was a hiss through clenched teeth. We had minutes, maybe less, before the boy turned.

"Get him to my place, now!" Jenna's command brooked no argument. We lifted the boy, his whimpers cutting through the quiet morning like a knife.

We moved fast, every second precious. Jenna's place was a makeshift infirmary, the air heavy with the scent of herbs and blood. She began her work, muttering incantations under her breath, her hands glowing faintly as she tried to stave off the darkness that threatened to claim the boy.

The others looked on, hope and fear warring on their faces. This was the reality of a shadow wolf attack. It wasn't just the immediate violence; it was the creeping, insidious threat that followed.

I helped where I could, but my mind was elsewhere, tangled in the woods with Cora. With every heartbeat, I felt the distance between us like a physical ache.

As the sun crested the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of pink and gold, Jenna leaned back, sweat beading her brow.

"It's done," she said, her voice heavy with weariness. "He'll live. No shadow wolf curse for this one."

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