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COULD THIS BE DEATH?

Author: Nelly Writes
last update publish date: 2026-06-09 03:32:17

ZARIA'S POV 

The rough, familiar hands of the pack warriors clamped down on my shoulders, ripping me backward off the cold stone altar. 

"Get your hands off me!" I choked out.

"Stop it! Let her go!" a frantic voice screamed from the side of the altar.

I forced my head up and saw Maya rushing forward, her dress torn at the hem as she tried to reach me. But before she could get close, two heavy-set warriors intercepted her, tackling her to the ground. She fought like a wild animal, scratching and kicking, until they brought out the heavy silver suppression chains.

"No! Garrick, please! She is your fated mate!" Maya shrieked, her voice cracking as the heavy metal links were wrapped around her wrists, anchoring her to the stone pillars. She collapsed against the iron, crying hysterically, her face drenched in tears as she watched them drag me down the center aisle.

My feet scraped against the stone. I looked at the crowd, desperate for a single sympathetic face, but nobody stepped forward. The very people who had smiled at me this morning turned their heads away.

Refusing to let it end like this, I used every ounce of my remaining strength to dig my heels into the ground, breaking free from the guards' grip for a split second. I didn't run away. Instead, I threw myself toward my sister, collapsing at her feet on the altar stairs. I grabbed the edge of her gown, my voice trembling as I begged her one last time.

"Cynthia, please," I wept, looking up into her cold eyes. "You are my blood. We grew up together. How can you sit here and take everything that belongs to me? Tell them the truth. Tell them what you did!"

Cynthia didn't even flinch. She just looked down at me, her face a mask of absolute amusement.

Seeing the complete lack of mercy in her eyes, something snapped deep inside me. The desperate begging died in my throat, replaced by a cold, volatile rage that burned right through the weakness in my veins. I tightened my grip on her dress, forcing myself up onto my knees so I could look her dead in the eye.

"You think you've won," I whispered, "But you can't steal a fated bond, Cynthia. You can't build a kingdom on poison and lies. I swear to you, if I survive this day, I will come back for everything you took. I will tear this pack out of your hands, and I will make sure you lose every single thing you think you've gained today."

Cynthia’s smirk didn't fade, but a dark, ugly flash passed through her eyes. She leaned down slightly, pulling her skirt out of my bleeding fingers. . She turned to the lead warrior holding my chains, her expression completely indifferent.

"She's completely delusional," Cynthia whispered, her voice barely audible over the murmurs of the crowd, though her eyes remained locked on mine. "Take her out to the deep ravine past the border. And make sure she doesn't survive the night. Make sure she is dead."

The guard nodded grimly, gripping my hair to force my head down.

"Zaria! No!" Maya’s hysterical crying echoed behind us as they dragged me toward the massive perimeter gates. She was still pulling against the heavy chains, her wrists bleeding from the friction.

As we reached the iron gates of the territory, a sudden, violent storm cracked open the sky. Heavy rain rolled in within seconds, completely drenching my white silks, turning them heavy and gray with mud. The gates groaned open, revealing the pitch-black abyss of the neutral forest beyond.

I stumbled, crashing hard onto the wet earth past the boundary line. Behind me, the heavy iron gates slammed shut, locking me out in the freezing dark.

I lay in the mud for a moment, the icy rain pelting my skin, the lingering toxin still twisting my stomach. But I refused to lay down and die in the dirt just because Cynthia commanded it. I forced my trembling legs to hold my weight, dragging myself deeper into the dark woods, away from the border.

I spun around, my back hitting a slick stone wall inside a muddy ravine. The three guards who had just thrown me out emerged from the shadows, their eyes flashing with a cruel, golden light. 

"Nothing personal, Zaria," the lead warrior sneered, flexing his hands into sharp claws. "The Luna wants to make sure there are no loose ends."

Adrenaline burned straight through the weakness in my veins. As the first guard lunged, aiming his claws directly at my throat, my instinct took over. I ducked beneath his heavy swing, using his own momentum to send him sliding into the slick mud.

My hand swept down, gripping a thick, heavy tree branch from the forest floor. The second guard charged, and before he could connect, I swung the blunt wood with every ounce of strength I had left, striking him hard across the jaw. He went down with a heavy groan. I was panting, my vision swimming, but I held the broken wood up, refusing to let them murder me without a fight.

But my body had hit its absolute limit.

The heavy exertion caused the remaining poison in my blood to spike. A wave of blinding dizziness hit me, and the third warrior capitalized on it, tackling me directly into the freezing mud. The branch flew from my hand. The first guard scrambled back up, pinning my arms down into the dirt, crushing the breath out of my lungs.

"Pathetic," he growled, raising his claws above my chest to deliver the final blow.

I closed my eyes, the freezing rain mixing with the hot tears on my face. I was spent. Completely exhausted. I accepted it then, knowing I was condemned to die in this dark wilderness, discarded by the people I loved.

Suddenly, a deafening crack shattered the silence of the forest.

The lead guard violently jerked forward, a neat, smoking hole tearing straight through his shoulder as he was blasted off my body by the sheer force of the impact. The remaining warriors scrambled back in pure panic, their golden eyes wide with shock.

Through the rain, the heavy click of a bolt-action lever echoed through the trees.

From the absolute darkness of the woods, a massive, imposing figure stepped forward. He held a sleek, heavy tactical hunting gun resting easily against his shoulder, the barrel still smoking in the freezing air. 

The two remaining guards took one look at the weapon, then up at the man's face, and completely froze. The color drained from their skin.

"Drop your weapons and run," a deep, rumbled voice commanded from behind the gun. "Or the next round goes straight between your eyes."

The guards didn't hesitate. They scrambled backward into the brush, dragging their wounded leader with them, completely terrified.

The heavy footsteps moved closer until a quiet shadow loomed over me. I squinted through my blurred vision, my breath catching as my eyes locked onto a pair of piercing, brilliant crimson eyes glowing in the dark, framed by the collar of a heavy leather coat.

A gasp escaped my lips. Lycan Cassian. The legendary Midnight King.

I trembled, a new wave of terror washing over me as the myth stood directly over my broken body. He was the end of all things. But as he lower the gun and knelt in the mud beside me, his expression wasn't cruel. 

He unclipped his massive, heavy fur coat, draping it gently around my shivering shoulders. The scent of cedar and rain enveloped me. As his powerful arms slipped beneath my back and knees, lifting me effortlessly against his chest, I completely surrendered to my fate, letting the darkness take me.

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