Page 22 of Alpha's Heir

The fight with the shadow wolves had left us all on edge, muscles tense and teeth still bared. But now we were fighting a different kind of enemy – fire. It consumed without prejudice, leaving nothing but ash in its wake.

"Weston, here!" Lyla's voice cut through the confusion. She was directing operations near the nursery, her face a mask of determination. We managed to quell the flames there, saving what little we could.

But the cost... it was written on everyone's faces. Three families stood, staring at the blackened skeletons of what were once their homes. Their eyes were haunted, reflecting the orange glow of dying embers.

"Shit," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "We'll set up temporary shelters in the hall and the training rooms," I announced, meeting their eyes, trying to instill a confidence I wasn't entirely sure I felt.

"No one's sleeping without a roof tonight," Jared affirmed, stepping beside me. His usual cocky demeanor was replaced with something more akin to somber resolve.

We worked through the night, shifting furniture, distributing blankets, anything to bring a semblance of comfort. "You're with the Hendersons," I told one family, leading them to a space we'd cordoned off with sheets. "It's not much, but it's safe and warm."

A little girl clung to her mother's leg, her eyes wide and glistening in the flickering torchlight. "It's an adventure, like the stories," I heard her whisper, trying to be brave. Her innocence was a small flicker of hope in the dark.

"We've got food and clothes coming," Lyla added, taking charge as people looked to us for guidance. "We'll rebuild. We always do."

I met her gaze, grateful for her unwavering strength. We were leaders, yes, but right now, we were also survivors.

As the clouds of smoke began to recede, revealing the full extent of the devastation, a profound exhaustion set in. But there was no time to rest; the reality of what needed to be done was as relentless as the sunrise.

"Alright, meeting at first light," I said, my voice firm despite the tiredness that weighed down every word. "We need to assess the damage, salvage what we can, and start planning the rebuild."

Nods of agreement met my words. Our pack was battered, our spirits tested, but not broken.

We were left with a clear vision of the task ahead. It would be a long road, but we would walk it together, one step at a time. This was more than a compound; it was home, and we would fight for it, no matter what came our way.

Chapter eleven

Cora

Iwaspanting,mypaws slipping on the damp undergrowth of the enchanted clearing, which was no longer just a marvel to my eyes but a battlefield. My sides heaved, and every breath was a scorching draft in my lungs. The wildcat-bird hybrid in front of me was a monster out of nightmares, all talons and teeth, its screeches cutting through the air like a physical force.

I dodged another swipe, the creature’s claws just missing my flank. A yelp almost escaped me, but I clamped down on it. Showing fear wasn't an option; I needed to be all teeth and growls and primal wolf instinct. But fuck, it was hard when every move was a narrow escape from death.

Its beady eyes were fixed on me, a horrifying intelligence in their depths. It knew it was wearing me down, the bastard. I could feel the strain in my muscles, each movement heavier than the last.

The beast lunged, and I leapt aside, feeling the wind of its passage, the heat of its body so close to mine. I turned swiftly, my jaws snapping at its hindquarters, managing a grazing bite. It yowled, a sound that sent a shiver down my spine.

Again, it came at me, faster this time, a blur of fur and feathers. I rolled away, but not fast enough; a sharp pain lanced through my shoulder as its claws found purchase. I couldn't hold back the whine that bubbled up from my throat.

I stumbled, the world tilting precariously. No, no, no. Get up, Cora. I pushed myself to my feet, the forest spinning momentarily before settling back into sharp focus. The beast was circling me, a predator toying with its prey.

I needed a plan, but my thoughts were scattered, ragged with exertion and fear. Another attack was coming; I could see it tensing, gathering itself for a decisive leap.

It struck, a mass of lethal intent, and I barely managed to sidestep. We were a whirl of motion, a dance of life and death, and it seemed to know every step while I was improvising.

A lucky swipe from me sent it reeling, a small victory that bought me precious seconds. It shook its head, dazed, and I didn't waste the moment. I lunged, teeth bared, and bit down hard on its leg. The taste of blood filled my mouth as it screamed, a high-pitched, ear-splitting sound.

But it recovered quickly, too quickly, knocking me aside with a wing that felt like a tree trunk. I skidded across the clearing, dirt and leaves in my mouth, the taste of the earth mingling with blood.

I tried to rise, but my legs were trembling, refusing to obey. Not now, I pleaded silently. The beast advanced, limping but relentless, its eyes promising a grim end.

I gathered what little strength I had left, preparing for another charge. It was all or nothing now. I could see in its gait, the slight falter – I'd hurt it, but not enough. Not nearly enough.

It roared, a sound that seemed to shake the very ground, and charged. I braced myself, every instinct screaming that this was it. I was a wolf, fierce and brave, but the simple truth was settling in, cold and unwelcome and terrifying – I was going to lose this fight.

My muscles screamed, my heart hammered, and for a moment, it was all a white-hot blur. It was instinct—a last-ditch, crazy-ass instinct—that made me do it. I let the wolf go, felt the painful rush of transformation, the sharp stabs that come with bones shifting, fur receding. The forest spun around me as I fell back into my human form, naked and shaking on the cool earth.

The beast halted, taken aback by the sudden change. Its confusion was a small victory, but victory nonetheless. It lasted only a heartbeat before the creature recovered, readying to pounce on this new, more vulnerable prey.

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