My heart slams against my ribs. “Dax!” I shout, already shifting, the familiar tear and stretch of bone and muscle a welcome release.
I hit the ground on all fours, black fur rippling, eyes glowing. Dax is right behind me, a blur of grey. We race through the trees, following the scent of fear and the faint, acrid smell of rogue.
The scene that greets us is chaos. A group of younger wolves, clearly on patrol, are cornered near the stream that feeds into the main den. Three rogues, lean and vicious, circle them, their eyes glinting with malice. They’re not just harassing; they’re trying to draw blood.
And then I see her.
Maya.
She’s not panicking. She’s a whirlwind of protective motion. She moves with a savage grace I’ve only glimpsed before, her hybrid nature shining through. She’s faster than the rogues, slipping between their attacks, not just defending, but shielding. One rogue lunges, and she ducks, using its momentum to send it sprawling into the stream. Another tries to flank her, and she’s already there, a low growl rumbling in her chest, a flash of silver on her arm.
She’s not just fighting. She’s protecting.
“Fall back!” she shouts, her voice clear and strong, cutting through the snarls and growls. “Stay behind me! To the ridge!”
They obey instantly, a testament to her innate protective instinct. Even in the midst of chaos, they trust her.
Dax and I plunge into the fray, flanking the rogues. My wolf snarls, a deep, guttural sound that makes the rogues hesitate. We’re outnumbered, but Maya’s quick thinking has bought us time, has given us an advantage.
The fight is brutal and fast. We work as a unit, a seamless dance of teeth and claws and raw power. Maya’s movements are fluid, almost instinctive. She’s still human, but her wolf is so close to the surface it’s like a second skin. She uses her human quickness, her sharp mind, to outmaneuver them, while her wolf provides the primalferocity.
Within minutes, two rogues are driven off, limping back into the trees. The third, a hulking male with a scarred muzzle, tries to take on Maya head-on. She meets him with a defiant roar, her eyes blazing. She’s not just defending; she’s attacking.
I move to intercept, but she’s already there. She feints right, then slams her elbow into his jaw, a clean, precise strike that sends him staggering. Before he can recover, she’s on him, a blur of motion, her hands wrapping around his throat.
“Who sent you?” she snarls, her voice low and dangerous, a predatory edge I’ve never heard before.
The rogue partially shifts, but she holds him, her grip surprisingly strong. His eyes widen in fear.
Then, he chokes out a name. “Cassie.”
My blood runs cold. I knew it. But to hear it confirmation, to see Maya’s face tighten, the rage building in her eyes…
She releases him, shoving him away with a disgusted snarl. “Get out. And tell Cassie her little game is over.”
The rogue scrambles away, disappearing into the trees.
Maya stands there, chest heaving, her eyes still blazing. The younger wolves stare at her in awe, their fear replaced by a newfound respect.
I shift back, my human form feeling too vulnerable, too small after the power of the wolf. Dax shifts beside me, his expression grim.
“You okay?” I ask Maya, my voice rough.
She nods, still breathing heavily. “I’m fine.” She looks at the retreating rogues, then back at us. “He said Cassie sent them.”
“I heard,” I say. My wolf is roaring, demanding blood for this betrayal.
“She wanted to make me look weak,” Maya says, her voice laced with a cold fury. “To prove I wasn’t fit to be Luna.”
Dax shakes his head. “She just proved the opposite. You led them. You protected them. You fought like a true Alpha.”
Maya turns to me, her eyes still burning. “We have to tell your father. We have to tell the council.”
My wolf demands it. Justice. Retribution. Cassie’s betrayal cannot go unpunished.
But then, I look at Maya. Her face is smudged with dirt, her hair a mess, but she stands tall, radiating a strength that has nothing to do with brute force. She’s not just my mate; she’s a leader. And in this moment, a calmness settles over me, overriding the primal rage.
“No,” I say, surprising even myself.
