Page 102 of Feral Fates
Blood gushes as arteries tear, Thaddeus’s struggles growing frantic. His massive form thrashes, claws raking Ryker’s already wounded body, opening new gashes that add to the growing pool of crimson beneath them.
Through the bond, I taste the blood, feel the effort it takes to hold the Grand Alpha down.
Keep going.
Ryker doesn’t release—not when claws tear his flank, not when teeth find his foreleg, not when Thaddeus’s full weight crashes against him in increasingly desperate attempts to escape the killing bite.
Thaddeus’s struggles gradually weaken, his movements becoming uncoordinated as blood loss takes its toll. In a final, desperate effort, he shifts back to human form—the transformation tearing flesh further against Ryker’s locked jaws but potentially creating space to escape.
The maneuver fails. As Thaddeus completes the change,Ryker adjusts his grip, maintaining the lethal bite that continues to drain life with each heartbeat. The Grand Alpha’s hands rise, fingernails lengthening to claws that rake desperately at his attacker’s face, missing Ryker’s eyes by millimeters.
“You don’t... understand,” Thaddeus gasps, blood bubbling from the catastrophic wound. “Without me... chaos... pack against pack...” His silver eyes find mine over Ryker’s massive form. “The seer... she sees... tell him...”
But whatever final manipulation or revelation he intended dies unspoken as strength leaves him completely. His hands fall limply to his sides, his head lolls back, silver eyes staring sightlessly at the morning sky.
The Grand Alpha is dead.
For a long moment, absolute silence holds the plateau. Ryker maintains his grip until certain no deception remains, then releases the body, letting it fall to bloodied stone with unceremonious finality. He staggers back, wounds from the brutal confrontation finally taking their toll.
He shifts back to human form—the transformation clearly agonizing in his damaged state but necessary for what comes next. Blood covers his skin, some his, some his father’s, the distinction meaningless in the aftermath.
His gaze finds mine across the distance, exhaustion and grim satisfaction warring in his expression. One step toward me, then another, his determination to reach my side overriding injuries that would fell any ordinary wolf.
I’m distantly aware of Thaddeus’s wolves, including Zella, running into the forest, fleeing from the crime. But none of that matters to me. Only Ryker.
I move, hurrying across the battlefield just as Ryker takes another step. But his legs give out, his massive form collapsing.
“No—no, no, Ryker—” I gasp, catching him as he falls.My knees buckle under his weight as I lower us both to the ground. “Stay with me. Please.”
“It’s done,” he whispers, voice raw from transformed vocal cords and extreme exertion. “The prophecy... fulfilled.”
“Yes,” I confirm, moving to support him as his strength finally falters. “It’s done. You did it, Ryker. You’ve changed everything.”
He manages a small, pained smile before consciousness leaves him completely.
My hands shake violently as I press trembling fingers to his throat, seeking his pulse—needing it.
Nothing.
Then—
There.
Faint. Fluttering. But present.
A sob tears from my lips, relief and terror colliding so violently I nearly choke. I feel light-headed, dizzy, my stomach swirling with nausea. I realize I’ve been holding my breath and suck in a ragged gasp, air catching in my throat as I try to steady myself.
“Elias!” I scream, my voice hoarse and broken. “Elena! Healers! Now!”
I press my hands to Ryker’s chest, palms flat over his heart. The bond between us sparks like fire in my veins. I pour into it—every ounce of will, of strength, of love—desperate to keep him tethered.
“Live,” I whisper, pressing my forehead to his, ignoring the blood and grime. “Live, my Alpha. My mate. My love.” My voice cracks, breaking entirely on the last word. “This isn’t how our story ends. Not yet. Not like this.”
His heartbeat flickers beneath my hands—uneven, fragile, but still fighting.
And through our bond, I feel it—that wild, primal essence that makes him who he is. The wolf. The protector. The fighter.
He’s not gone.
