Page 5 of The Alpha's Fallen Spell
It’s deeper—rougher—like gravel dragged through silence.
I turn sharply, my snarl dying in my throat as something moves past the edge of the firelight. The man gasps again, but he’s not the one I’m focused on anymore.
A massive figure steps out of the trees.
Not a man.
A wolf.
Gray. Towering. His coat is thick and sleek, with silver laced through darker fur like threads of moonlight. Golden eyes pierce through the smoke and glowing embers and land directly on me.
He’s not afraid.
He’s assessing.
The earth seems to go still beneath his steps. He walks closer, slow and certain, the way predators move when they know they’re at the top of the food chain. And yet, there’s no hostility in his posture—just warning. Command.
I stiffen, shoulders hunched, head low.
At first, I don’t understand why I’m hesitating. But I am.
Because he’s bigger than me. Larger than anything I’ve ever seen.
Not just in size. In presence. In something more instinctual than language. He is not a wild creature. He is not a man twisted into something else.
He is balanced. And I—I am not.
I growl again, unsure, defensive, torn between the beast in me and the girl who still remembers chains and needles and faces with eyes that never blinked.
The wolf doesn’t flinch.
He stares straight into me, unmoving, as if he sees everything—the fury, the bloodlust, the parts of me that don’t know where the line is between vengeance and murder.
The man behind me is whimpering now. I glance over my shoulder. He’s trying to crawl again, but he’s slower this time. Pathetic. Broken.
My animal growls low, eager to finish him.
But the other wolf steps forward and growls once more.
Not a threat. A command.
Enough.
My chest heaves. My limbs shake. I lower my head, just slightly.
The rage still burns, but it flutters now. Wavers.
Because something in this wolf’s presence makes me feel like I’m not the only thing that escaped the dark.
I take one last look at the man before I back away, step by grudging step, until the taste of blood fades from the roof of my mouth and I can breathe without trembling.
The gray wolf holds my gaze until I stop growling.
The bloodthirstiness simmers just beneath my skin, but the wolf’s stare is heavier than the firelight. It presses down until my breath slows, my limbs loosen, and the need to kill shrinks into something quieter. It’s not gone. Just waiting.
Then, he moves. His head lifts slightly. He sniffs the air. Finally, he turns to the man still gasping behind me.
I almost forgot he was still alive.
