Page 10 of My Fated Mate

Their arrival is abrupt, the crunch of leaves under their swift footsteps betraying their approach. The leader, a menacing figure with a bandit's mask concealing his face, steps forward, his tone laced with malice.

"Well, well, what have we here?" he sneers, giving us a predatory look. "A pack of travelers, ripe for the picking. Hand over your money, and maybe we'll let you leave with your lives."

"You've chosen the wrong prey," I warn, stepping forward.

The thieves, ignorant to the storm they've stirred, sneer and mock, unaware of the alpha they've provoked.

“Look at them! Probably lost in the woods, thinking they can stroll through our territory without consequences," one of them jeers. Another adds a sinister chuckle, "You hear that, boys? They're practically begging to be robbed!"

"Leave now while you still have the chance," I tell them.

Of course, they’re deaf to my warnings.

The moon's glow provides a deceptive serenity, masking the impending chaos as the thieves encircle us.

Suddenly, the leader lunges forward, a blade gleaming in the moonlight. Time slows as instinct takes over—I deflect his strike with a swift motion, the clash of steel signaling the fight is on.

My pack engages with fierce determination, but the weariness of our long journey weighs on our limbs. The thieves, driven by desperation, fight relentlessly.

This fight is not in our favor.

The fight rages on, the moonlight casting shadows that dance with the chaos unfolding in the darkened forest. Fatigue begins to take its toll as the thieves, driven by desperation, escalate the brutality of their attacks.

Amid the clash, a particularly cunning thief seizes an opportune moment. He lunges at me with a swift, deceptive motion, catching me off guard.

His claws sink into my chest, a gruesome connection that sends shockwaves of pain through my body. The masked assailant drags his claws down with savage intent, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

Pain erupts, and a primal roar escapes my lips as blood stains the earth beneath me. I collapse on the forest floor as the relentless thief presses his advantage.

His sword, glinting ominously in the moonlight, is aimed for my throat, a final, vicious strike. Time slows, each moment elongated as if the very air is holding its breath.

This is it. My end will come at the hands of a mountain thief.

But then, like a fleeting savior, an arrow arcs from the shadows, slicing through the night with deadly precision.

My eyes widen as it crashes into the thief's throat, a sudden eruption of blood gushing forth.

The thief staggers, his sword dropping from nerveless fingers as his body crumples to the ground, a mere echo of the threat he posed just moments before.

Unable to move, I lie on the forest floor, bloodied and battered, my gaze fixed on the unfolding scene.

Like a sudden twist in a movie, a pack of unknown wolves dashes in, led by a fierce female with auburn hair that seems to catch the very essence of the moon's glow.

Time stands still as they swarm—a synchronized force against the remaining thieves. The air echoes with the clash of fur, fang, and steel as they systematically beat back the assailants.

I’m in shock, and my alpha instincts are momentarily subdued by the unexpected turn of events.

Amidst the tumult, my gaze fixes on the fiery-haired female, her aura ablaze with determination. She moves with a fluid grace, fierce in her fight.

The twang of a bowstring accompanies an arrow's flight, and I realize she's the one who shot the arrow, a silent harbinger of salvation.

In a flash, as if the veil of time briefly lifts, a sense of familiarity washes over me. Her eyes meet mine, and for that brief moment, it's as if I've glimpsed her in the echoes of a distant memory.

A tiger. She's like a tiger.

The chaotic sounds of battle gradually subside as the thieves retreat into the shadows, finally leaving us alone in the moonlit clearing.

I muster the strength to stand, wincing in pain. As I rise, my eyes meet the gaze of the fiery-haired female.

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