The Alpha’s Savage Rebirth

"Hold her down!"

My face slammed into the freezing mud of Darkmere Crossing. Heavy paws crushed my shoulder blade, forcing me to look directly into the icy glow of the twin moons.

"Rip her throat out and let's go."

"Wait, look at her face! Half of it is completely mangled by silver burns. I'm going to vomit if I have to smell that rotting flesh."

"Is this really the broken omega Vickon Blackwynd claimed as his mate? The Alpha of the Blackwynd Moon Dominion could choice-bond any high-ranking female in the territory. Why keep a scarred freak?"

"Who cares what turns the Alpha on? Tear her apart, we need to bring her severed ears back to the pack house as proof."

Claws tore into my back.

"Drop her."

Two figures stepped out from the thick briars, their elite furs catching the moonlight.

"Well, look who decided to grace the slaughterhouse. Thorne Blackwynd. Vaelira Nightvale. Didn't expect the beta-blood and the rogue princess to watch the execution personally."

"Is the bitch dead yet?" Vaelira's voice vibrated with a purr as she leaned against Thorne.

"Why?" I wheezed, blood bubbling past my fangs. "You were my pack-sister, Vaelira. Thorne... I rejected my own true-mate signs for you."

"Why?" Thorne sneered, kicking mud directly into my open wounds. "Elder Malgrin is dead. Your bloodline protection is gone. You are completely useless to the pack now."

Vaelira shifted her weight, her scent dripping with lethal satisfaction. "Let's be completely honest since your soul is about to enter the ancestral hunting grounds, Zafira. We only used your weak lineage to siphon Vickon's ancestral lunar power. Now that his heart has stopped and his dominion belongs to us, your throat is ready for the knife."

"Vickon... the True Alpha... is dead?"

"Ambushed by silver-tipped arrows three nights ago," Vaelira laughed, the sound sharp like snapping bone. "He burned through his entire life-force trying to break the curse on your scarred face. Didn't your useless inner wolf feel the pack-bond snap when you woke up?"

The claws descended again, ripping my consciousness into pitch-black shadow. Vickon... I'm sorry... I failed the bond.

"Wake up, Lady Blackwynd! We have crossed the pack borders."

The sudden jerk of the armored transport snapped my eyes open.

"Stop the vehicle!" I gasped, grabbing the driver's throat from the backseat.

Kaelor Vayne gasped for air, his eyes flashing amber in the rearview mirror. "Lady Blackwynd? What is wrong? The Alpha is waiting at Moonhollow Ridge to finalize the blood-binding."

I pulled my hand back, staring at my fingers. No blood. No silver burns. I touched my cheek—smooth, unbroken skin, pulsing with the heat of a young wolf's blood.

"Turn around," I commanded, my voice dropping to a low, authoritative growl that shocked my own ears. "Take me to the ancestral estate immediately."

"But Alpha Vickon is critically wounded from the silver poison!" Kaelor protested, his scent spiking with sudden anxiety. "You cannot just reject the summon now!"

"I said drive to the estate, Kaelor. Now."

My chest heaved as I stared at the back of his neck. In my past life, I fled this exact transport. I let Vaelira convince me to run into Thorne's rogue territory, sealing Vickon's doom. I looked at Kaelor's tense shoulders he was already tracking my location for Vaelira's spies.

My claw accidentally grazed the interface screen on the dashboard as a pack-comm flashed.

[Vaelira: Don't let the Alpha touch your neck, Zafira. Thorne is waiting at the border to free you from the Blackwynd leash.]

I smashed the screen with my bare fist, sparking wires into the dark.

The heavy iron gates of the Blackwynd estate loomed, carved with the howling crest of the ancient pack.

High above the courtyard, a massive silhouette stood on the stone balcony, his lethal, dark aura sweeping over the arriving transport like a physical weight.

"Alpha, the female from the Nightvale bloodline has arrived." Zyric Fenwolf stepped out from the shadows of the balcony, his head bowed.

Vickon didn't turn around, his claws digging deep into the stone railing. "How many omegas has the elders' council sent to my chamber this mooncycle?"

"She is the fourth, Alpha."

"And the others?"

"The first bled out from your unleashed feral aura within a week. The second lost her sanity to the pack-mind link. The third tried to throw herself from the eastern cliffs rather than submit to your mating bite. The pack elders are desperate to stabilize your core before the silver poison takes your wolf."

"Let her come up. Let us see if this one breaks just as easily."

I stood in the center of the grand pack hall, my fingers gripping the straps of my rucksack so hard the leather groaned.

The heavy iron doors groaned open.

Vickon walked in, his massive frame shifting with absolute, brutal power, though his scent carried the unmistakable, bitter tang of burning silver poison. He was a god of war, a sovereign predator, yet his eyes were bloodshot and dark with agony.

"Send the female back to her father's den," Vickon growled flatly, not even looking at me.

"Wait!" I threw myself forward, crashing to my knees right at his clawed feet.

His golden eyes snapped down to mine, burning with an intense, terrifying pressure that could crush a lesser wolf's spirit. "What did you say?"

"I am your chosen mate," I roared against the weight of his dominant aura, tears spilling down my face as I bared my neck to him willingly. "I am not leaving this territory. I am staying by your side until the pack burns."