The Alpha's Healer

ROMAN

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I should have fucking known it was a trap.

The forest was too quiet, the air too still, like nature itself was holding its breath in anticipation of the bloodshed to come.

The ancient pines loomed overhead, their branches casting twisted shadows in the waning daylight. Even my wolf, usually a constant presence in my mind— strong, assured, and steady— was restless, pacing with nervous energy that made my skin crawl. But I was too proud, too damn sure of myself to listen to those warning signs. Too caught up in my own reputation as the undefeated Alpha of the Black Moon Pack to consider that someone might have finally outmaneuvered me.

That's always been my problem— pride. Not the healthy kind that comes from genuine accomplishment, but the toxic sort that festers in your soul and blinds you to reality.

The kind that makes you think you're invincible, that you can handle anything thrown your way. The kind that makes you ignore the counsel of those who care about you most. The kind that gets people killed.

"Alpha, something's not right," Elijah muttered beside me, his dark eyes scanning the treeline with the intensity of a seasoned warrior.

My Beta had always been the cautious one, the voice of reason I too often ignored in favor of my own stubborn instincts. His massive frame was tense, muscles coiled like springs ready to release. "The birds have stopped singing. Even the insects are quiet."

"We're fine," I growled, but even as the words left my mouth, I caught a scent that made my blood run cold.

Rogue wolves.

Not the usual desperate outcasts we sometimes encountered, but something far more dangerous.

I'd know that particular mixture of leather and spite anywhere— a scent that had haunted my dreams for three years.

Cassandra.

The name alone was enough to make my wolf snarl with rage. My sister's best friend, now my worst enemy.

The bitter taste of betrayal flooded my mouth as memories of that night three years ago crashed over me like a tidal wave.

The night my sister Iris disappeared, and Cassandra turned against us, taking half our allies with her. The night everything changed.

"Spread out!" I barked to my warriors, but deep down, I knew it was too late. We were already surrounded, had been since we entered this cursed part of the forest. My arrogance had led us straight into her web.

They came at us from all sides, a wave of snarling, snapping jaws and gleaming weapons.

The forest erupted into chaos as my pack members shifted, their bodies contorting and transforming in a symphony of cracking bones and rippling muscle.

I shifted instantly, my own transformation smoother than most— a benefit of my Alpha bloodline. Black fur rippled across my skin, and my vision sharpened to crystal clarity as my wolf took control.

The first rogue that reached me got my teeth in his throat— a young male, probably turned rather than born wolf, given his clumsy attack. I felt the hot spray of blood, heard his final gurgling breath as life left his body.

Another came at my flank, but I was faster, stronger. I always had been. The perks of being born an Alpha, I suppose, though at that moment it felt more like a curse than a blessing.

But they kept coming, wave after wave, and even I couldn't fight off an entire army alone.

Through the chaos, I saw Elijah taking on three at once, his gray wolf form a blur of motion as he fought with the precision of a trained killer.

Two of my other warriors were already down, their bodies motionless on the forest floor, their blood staining the earth crimson.

"Well, well," a familiar voice cut through the chaos, smooth as silk but sharp as a blade. "The mighty Roman Blackthorn, walking right into my trap like an amateur. I expected more from you, old friend."

Cassandra emerged from the shadows like a specter, her long black hair whipping in the wind that had suddenly picked up.

SShe wasn't shifted, confident enough in her position to face me in human form.

Just the mere sight of her made my wolf howl with rage, memories of her betrayal burning like acid in my mind.

I shifted back, ignoring the searing pain of the transformation. "Where is she?" I snarled, my voice rough with fury and exhaustion. "Where's my sister?"

Cassandra's laugh was like broken glass, sharp and dangerous. "Still hung up on that? Poor Roman, always trying to fix his failures. How's that working out for you? How many more of your pack members need to die before you realize you're not the hero of this story?"

I lunged at her, driven by rage and three years of pent-up grief, but someone slammed into me from the side.

Darius, her second-in-command, a brute of a wolf with more muscle than brains.

But what he lacked in intelligence, he made up for in raw strength and loyalty to Cassandra.