Page 39 of Alpha's Heir

Preston’sgripwasunrelentingas he carried me through the twisted, nightmarish woods. The once beautiful forest had become a grotesque caricature of itself, with eerie shadows and monstrous creatures lurking in every corner. My heart raced, a mix of fear and adrenaline pumping through my veins.

As he set me down, my feet barely touched the ground before I bolted, desperate for escape. But it was futile; Preston's reflexes were unnaturally quick. He caught me effortlessly, his hand clamping down on my arm with a vice-like grip.

I looked around frantically, realizing with a sinking heart that we were at the shrine where I had first encountered the Guardian. The once serene and mystical clearing was now shrouded in darkness, the air thick with the malevolence of the Unseen Pack.

Their mocking laughter filled the air, a cacophony of cruel joy. I recognized some of their faces – former members of our pack who had succumbed to the dark magic. Among them was the teenager, Ethan, his once warm and friendly eyes now cold and black, his expression twisted into something unrecognizable.

"Let me go, Preston," I demanded, struggling against his hold. "This isn't you. This isn't right!"

Preston sneered, his eyes glinting with malice. "Oh, it's very much me, Cora. And this," he gestured around the clearing, "is the new reality. You and your precious pack have lost."

I glared at him, my heart sinking as I realized the gravity of the situation. "Why me? Why this sacrifice?"

Preston's grip tightened, his voice low and menacing. "The forest's magic requires a powerful offering. And what could be more powerful than the life of an Alpha and her unborn child?"

My blood ran cold at his words. "You won't get away with this," I spat, defiance coursing through me despite the fear.

His laugh was chilling. "I already have, Cora. Look around you. The forest is mine. The Unseen Pack grows stronger by the day. And soon, with your sacrifice, there will be nothing to stop us."

The Unseen Pack members circled around us, their faces a mixture of glee and anticipation. The teenager, Ethan, stepped closer, his sinister smirk sending shivers down my spine.

"You were supposed to protect us, Alpha," he taunted, his voice dripping with venom. "Look at you now."

I felt a surge of guilt and sorrow at his words. These were my people, twisted and corrupted by a darkness I had failed to stop.

As they dragged me towards the altar, I searched the clearing desperately for any sign of the Guardian. But there was nothing – just the oppressive darkness and the malevolent presence of the Unseen Pack.

Preston’s laughter echoed in my ears as I was forced onto the cold stone of the altar. "Welcome to your final resting place, Alpha."

I closed my eyes, a silent prayer on my lips. If there was any hope left, any chance of salvation, it lay with Weston and the Guardian. But as the shadows closed in around me, that hope felt like a distant dream.

Preston's preparations were meticulous and chilling. The altar, an ancient stone slab, was surrounded by an assortment of sinister tools – sharp knives with handles carved from bone, bowls filled with dark liquids that smelled of death, and bundles of dried herbs that let off a pungent, unsettling odor. He laid out a tome, its pages yellowed with age, filled with symbols and scripts that made my skin crawl.

I was dressed in a white gown that felt like a mockery of purity. The fabric was soft, but the red symbols daubed all over it, especially over my belly, felt like a violation. I lay on the cold stone, the symbols seeming to burn into my skin, a constant reminder of the dark purpose they served.

Preston began the ritual, his voice a sinister chant that filled the clearing. I struggled against the bonds that held me, but it was futile. The members of the Unseen Pack circled around, their eyes glowing with a malevolent light, as if they were feeding off the dark energy that Preston was conjuring.

Just as Preston raised a knife, its blade glinting ominously in the moonlight, there was a sudden commotion. Out of nowhere, Weston charged into the clearing with his pack, their forms a blur of fur and fang. They collided with the members of the Unseen Pack in a cacophony of snarls and growls.

I tried to call out to Weston, but my voice was lost in the chaos. My heart raced, a mix of fear and hope surging through me. I could see Weston fighting fiercely, taking down one shadow wolf after another, his movements a testament to his strength and determination.

But in the midst of the battle, he hadn't noticed me yet, lying helpless on the altar. I watched, torn between terror and desperation, as he moved closer, his focus entirely on the enemies before him.

The fight was brutal, a whirlwind of violence and fury. Members of our pack fought with everything they had, but the Unseen Pack was relentless, their shadowy forms shifting and striking with lethal precision.

Weston was a force of nature, his wolf form powerful and agile. But even he was struggling against the overwhelming numbers and the unnatural strength of the Unseen Pack.

As he took down another opponent, his gaze finally swept towards the altar. Our eyes met, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The look on his face was a mixture of shock, relief, and a burning resolve.

He started to make his way towards me, but more shadow wolves leaped into his path, their snarls filling the air. I watched, my heart in my throat, as Weston fought his way through, determined to reach me.

But the battle was far from over, and as Weston engaged with another wave of shadow wolves, I lay on the altar, praying for a miracle. The ritual had been interrupted, but I knew that as long as I was on this altar, the danger was far from over.

Preston, with a calmness that chilled me to the bone, stood apart from the chaos, his eyes fixed on the ritual before him. He appeared almost unconcerned by the battle raging around us, confident in his pack's ability to fend off Weston and his allies. I strained against my bonds, panic rising within me as I saw Weston being swarmed by the shadowy figures of the Unseen Pack.

"Too bad... he won't make it in time," Preston's voice cut through the clamor, his tone laced with a mocking finality. His words sent a shiver down my spine, the reality of my situation sinking in.

Preston began the ritual with an unsettling focus. He recited the incantation in a language I couldn't understand, his voice deep and resonant, echoing through the clearing. The words seemed to twist and coil in the air, creating a palpable sense of dread.

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