Page 33

Andros

We plunged through the portal, magic slicing violently through my bones. Reality spun and twisted like molten metal around us. My vision blurred, narrowed, then shattered.

Madness surged through my skull, raw and savage. Images poured across my mind, visions no mortal should see, things beyond my understanding.

I saw a world burning, torn apart by chaos.

Strange metal birds roaring through skies thick with ash, casting dark shadows over lands ravaged by war.

Two souls, immortal, their hearts finding each other even there, as the dead rose in endless hordes, marching mindlessly to devour the living.

Love surviving the army of the dead , defiant, eternal, amidst hopelessness.

Another flash—

A bleak, dark city, cold metal gleaming harshly beneath endless rain.

People walking mechanically, their minds shackled by some dark magic embedded like runes of steel into their very skulls.

Chips of iron controlling their every thought, their every breath—but still, two souls fought through, reaching desperately toward each other, defying the oppressive darkness that sought to consume them.

Choosing death on their own terms, together.

My head spun violently.

The images came faster now.

A world on the brink, shadow and corruption sinking deep beneath the earth, spreading dark roots like the tendrils of a poisoned tree, draining life itself from every living creature.

Above, a fierce, fiery bird, feathers burning like flame, clenched her claws, ready to dive, lightning tearing the sky apart as she prepared for battle.

Then—so fast I barely caught it—

A man standing in strange, gleaming armour marked by scars of countless battles, his eyes deep with an ache I recognized all too clearly.

Tenderly, he tucked a lock of golden hair behind the ear of a woman whose eyes shone with trust and longing.

He pressed a soft yellow rose gently into her hair, lips murmuring a promise so powerful it echoed across eternity: “ I will find you, over and over again. No matter how many worlds stand between us.”

Pain shattered my skull—

And suddenly, violently, reality snapped back.

I hit the floor hard, stone cracking beneath me, the portal tearing closed behind us with a deafening snap. The witch landed heavily beside me, coughing, drained to the very last drop of her power.

We were back at the citadel. But the air wasn't silent. It was filled with screaming. Screams of terror, battle, chaos.

Smoke curled thick in the air, sharp and acrid, stinging my nose and throat as I staggered to my feet. The magic still buzzed in my veins, my body aching from the violent return.

We were behind the stables—at the far edge of the citadel. And that’s when I saw them. Three bodies lay sprawled in the mud-soaked snow, blood pooling beneath them.

Garrick .

I ran.

He was gasping, barely conscious, soaked in crimson from a deep wound that cleaved through his side. The two others—my men—were already gone, their eyes wide and empty, throats slashed with clean, practised cruelty.

But Garrick, he still breathed.

His lips curled weakly as I dropped beside him, pressing my hands over the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. His eyes fluttered open.

“Took you long enough,” he wheezed, a ghost of a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“Shut up,” I muttered, jaw clenched. “You’re going to be fine.”

“Don’t lie to me,” he murmured, coughing blood. “You’ve always been shit at it.”

The witch limped beside me, face pale, her hands shaking.“I’ve got this,” she said quietly. “Might be able to pull him back. Not a promise.”

I looked at her, really looked, and saw how wrecked she was. Her skin grey, breath shallow, eyes sunken. The portal had drained her, and the spell she’d brewed for Lexa had taken the rest.

She was running on fumes.

“This is it,” she said, kneeling down with effort. “This is the last thing I can do for you, Alpha. After this… you're on your own.”

I didn’t argue. I didn’t thank her. I just nodded, then stood slowly, scanning the ground.

One of the wolves that had fallen lay face down in the mud, sword still clutched in his hand. I ripped it from his grip and turned toward the gates.

The smoke was thicker now. Screams echoed through the halls. I could hear the clash of steel, the shouts of men fighting for—or against—something they didn’t understand.

Lexa .

I gripped the sword tighter, heart pounding, rage climbing. And in the chaos, the one small flame of relief that Dain was not there. I had taken him to the village. He was still on the road, guarded by my men. Still safe.

He didn’t see this.

With one last look at Garrick—still breathing, barely, under the witch’s trembling hands—I turned toward the citadel’s gates and ran.

The citadel was a battlefield.

Smoke choked the air, heavy and dark, weaving between the walls like a living thing. Men clashed wildly—wolves loyal to me locked against Roran’s traitors, blades ringing and claws tearing through flesh, fur matted with blood and dirt.

Chaos everywhere. Screams echoed off stone, the scent of death and iron choking my senses. Shattered furniture and overturned tables littered the halls, torches ripped from sconces, flames climbing curtains and tapestries. My home, my sanctuary, torn apart by betrayal.

Some wolves fought in human form, swords in hand, armour glistening with blood and soot. Others had shifted, fur bristling, teeth bared in primal fury, claws ripping mercilessly into enemies once called brothers.

My grip tightened on the sword I'd taken from the fallen wolf outside. Without hesitation, I charged into the madness, cutting down the first traitor who lunged toward me—a clean strike through the ribs. He collapsed instantly, eyes wide in shock.

I didn't slow down.

A loyal wolf, cornered by two traitors, fought fiercely but was losing ground, wounds already staining his fur.

I surged forward, blade slicing clean through one attacker’s spine before he could finish the strike.

The other turned, snarling, lunging—my blade caught him squarely through the chest, puncturing armour and bone.

He fell, gasping, blood filling his throat.

“Alpha,” the wolf gasped, staggering to his feet, eyes wide with gratitude.

“Fight,” I growled fiercely. “Push them back.”

He nodded grimly, picking up his fallen sword and rushing back into the fray.

Another clash up ahead—two of Roran’s men cornering an injured female from my personal guard. I didn’t hesitate. I moved like fire. One blade cleaved a neck. The other pierced a heart.

The halls were worse, tight quarters, blood smeared on the walls, boots slipping in gore. The bodies of wolves littered the corridors, some still twitching, others long gone. I recognized faces. Men and women I’d trained with. Trusted. All of it torn apart by Roran’s greed.

More traitors closed in. My sword moved swiftly, an extension of my rage, fuelled by the bond and the raw terror still echoing from Lexa’s vision. Bodies fell at my feet as I carved a path forward, my muscles burning, heartbeat roaring wildly.

My vision sharpened, pinpointing the room at the end of the corridor. Lexa’s room.

Three wolves blocked my path, eyes glittering with madness, weapons ready. With a furious roar, I lunged forward. Blades clashed violently, sparks flying as I cut them down one by one, their bodies falling heavy and lifeless onto the blood-soaked stone.

The door was in sight. My heart pounded violently, driven by desperate fear and love.

I surged forward, blade dripping crimson, and kicked open the door, bracing for whatever awaited me inside.

The room was empty.

My heart sank, panic flaring violently in my chest. Lexa’s scent still lingered fresh in the air, heavy and sweet and faintly tinged with fear. They couldn’t have gotten far.

But before I could move, a snarl sounded behind me.

I spun sharply, only just managing to dodge as a traitor lunged, knocking my blade from my hand and sending it clattering across the stone floor.

We collided violently, rolling together in a fury of fists and claws.

His strength matched mine, rage lending him a ferocity almost equal to my own.

I shifted partially, letting the wolf rise in me just enough to meet him with sharpened teeth and lengthened claws.

Blow after blow fell between us, savage, relentless.

He was strong, but desperation fuelled me—I had too much to lose.

With a feral snarl, I pinned him beneath me, claws sinking deep into his chest. My fists landed again and again, bone shattering beneath my knuckles, blood spraying across my skin, until his body finally went limp beneath me.

I rose slowly, breathing heavily, blood dripping from my fingers, my eyes wild. My muscles shook with exhaustion and fury, but I didn’t pause. Lexa was still missing.

Then a voice echoed from outside—the courtyard—piercing through the sounds of chaos and death.

“Andros!”

The voice was mocking, arrogant. Familiar.

Roran .

I stormed to the window, looking down into the smoke-filled courtyard. My blood froze, heart hammering violently in my chest.

Roran stood there, blade drawn, smiling coldly as he faced upward toward me. Beside him stood Tanya, eyes glittering with cruel triumph, one arm wrapped around Lexa’s weakened, barely conscious form, a dagger pressed cruelly against her pale throat.

My entire world stopped. My vision tunnelled until all I could see was Lexa’s face, bruised, exhausted, barely clinging to consciousness. Her body sagged against Tanya, too weak to stand alone. The final rune flickered faintly against her skin, struggling desperately to hold her wolf inside.

Roran lifted his chin, smug and taunting, his voice rising clearly through the smoke and fire. “You’ve lost, Andros! Surrender—or watch your precious Omega bleed out before your eyes.”

Tanya tightened her grip, the blade pressing harder, drawing a thin line of crimson from Lexa’s skin. She smirked, her voice cold, full of venomous satisfaction. “What’ll it be, Alpha? Her life—or yours?”

I snarled low, teeth clenched, hands trembling with pure, blinding rage. Blood surged through me, hot and violent, but I froze.

The woman I loved was moments from death and every decision I made now would determine the fate of us all.