Page 27 of My Fated Mate

A new scent pricks my senses, one all too familiar—rogue wolves—and not a small pack.

My wolf growls, an instinctive reaction to the territorial threat lurking on the borders of the Ember Pack's territory.

Those fucking bastards.

Without a second thought, I turn back to warn the Ember Pack, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I can't stay here and wallow in self-pity when danger threatens others.

I race back towards familiar territory, the forest floor blurring beneath my pounding paws.

Reaching the edge of the clearing, I changed back and hastily put on my clothes, which were left by a familiar tree.

I'm met with a scene of frantic activity.

Warriors sharpen blades. Healers gather supplies. Fear and determination are etched on every face. Alerted by the commotion, Eamon, the formidable Ember Pack Alpha, emerges from his hut, his face a mask of grim determination.

"Rogues," I announce, wasting no time with pleasantries. "A strong pack, just outside your borders."

His eyes narrow, a flicker of appreciation crossing his kind, weathered face. "Thank you for the warning, Alpha Thorne. Your arrival couldn't be more timely."

The next few hours are a flurry of activity.

Plans are formed, strategies discussed, and a sense of grim camaraderie fills the air.

The Ember Pack may be smaller, but they are fierce, and their loyalty to their leader is absolute.

I immediately offer my assistance.

But before we head out to face the enemy, I find myself drawn towards Elowen.

Just the thought of her name sends a wave of tenderness and longing crashing over me.

Pushing open the door to her room, I find her surrounded by vials and herbs, her brow furrowed in concentration.

But when she looks up, the concern in her eyes melts me from the inside out.

"Thorne," she breathes, relief coloring her voice. "You're here. Are you okay?”

I nod, unable to tear my gaze from her worried face. "There's been a development," I explain about the rogues and the impending battle.

The color drains from her face, but her chin remains stubbornly high.

"Then go," she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. "Protect them, protect yourself."

Stepping forward, I reach out, brushing a stray curl from her cheek. "I will," I vow, my voice rough with emotion. Then, impulsively, I lean down, capturing her lips in a kiss.

It's a desperate kiss, filled with the weight of the unknown and the portent of danger.

But there's also a tenderness in it, a fierce possessiveness that defies the impossible situation we are in.

Finally, I pull away, my forehead resting against hers. "I promise," I murmur, my voice thick with emotion. "I'll come back to you."

Her eyes are filled with unshed tears as she nods.

With a final, lingering glance, I turn and head out into the gathering dusk.

Steel clashes on steel, the clang echoing through the clearing as the battle rages. We surge forward, a wave of warriors against the snarling mass of rogues.

The scent of blood fills the air, a metallic tang that mingles with the primal musk of wolf, fear, hunger, and determination.

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