Fragile Frame (2)

Alaric’s POV

I wasted no time in shielding her with my body, crouching low, claws extended, every nerve in my body aflame.

Then came more of the bandits, more bloody bandits… our blades slashed.. swords clanked against each other..

None touched her. None would...

My fury was a storm, my blood a river, and every man who dared inch closer drowned in it.

The first swung low. I twisted, my arm lashing out, claws raking across his throat. His blood splattered on the ground like rain, staining the dirt before his body finally collapsed at my feet.

Another lunged with force. My shoulder met his chest with a crack that echoed loud in his ears, his ribs folded under the force.

He flew backward, crashing into the tree trunk with enough violence to make me smile..

Steel continued to clash as sparks burst in the dark each time blades were hit.

They attacked me in pairs, two, three at a time, circling, testing, but I made sure they found no opening. I was a storm, and she was the calm eye I shielded with my very body.

One raised his sword above her. My heart slammed. A snarl ripped free from my throat, and I spun, forcefully driving my claws into his chest until my fingers closed around his heart. His eyes widened, his mouth open in a silent plea, before I crushed it and tossed him aside.

No one touched her… No one would.

My fury had consumed me, yet every movement I made was calculated and deliberate. She never slipped from my grip. When they struck at my left, I turned my back, taking the blow across my shoulder rather than risk their steel reaching her. When they aimed high, I ducked low, curling my frame over hers, my claws striking out like lightning bolts from my body.

Zorrak’s growls tore through me as we ripped through the ambush together, a deadly rhythm born of rage. Bandits tried to scatter, but I dragged them down, their pleas unheard beneath the snarl tearing my throat raw.

The ground was painted red with their blood... Their screams rose, broke, and died, one after the other.

I stood unyielding, blood dripping from my hands, chest heaving, her fragile form was now pressed safely against me.

And then.. two shadows burst from the trees.

They lunged into the fight with a savage grace that matched my own.

Flesh split, bones snapped. For a moment, the battlefield sang with the violence of our kind. Together, we tore through the stragglers until silence fell again, broken only by the shallow breaths of the dying.

I rose slowly, chest heaving, blood dripping from my claws.

I stared at the girl next to me.. She looked… breakable… Too breakable for this world.

I brushed back the strands of hair that clung to the cut at her temple. My touch was quick... No warmth... No softness.

‘She lives,’ I muttered, almost to myself.

’You care?’

I snapped my head away. ’I don’t.’

But I did not move from her side until every last enemy lay still.

Finally, I turned to the two Lycans. My eyes narrowed as I stared at them...

The battlefield was littered with corpses.. wolves, lycans, rogues. They had all come for us, a rabid mix of desperation and greed. I had cut them down before they could touch her again. Still, the fact remained.. they should never have gotten this close in the first place.

I let the silence stretch for a while, as I waited for my anger to cool into ice.

Then I slowly asked, “What took you so long?”

I didn’t try to hide my anger.. My voice sounded like venom.

The taller one Jethro, slowly bowed his head as he began to speak “The rogues split into two groups. We intercepted the first, but… you faced the larger force alone.”

Zorrak snarled inside me. ‘How interesting’

I immediately shut him out, though my claws still twitched with the urge and hunger to shred. My eyes burned as I looked from the Lycans back to Annalise’s unconscious pale and fragile form.

She wasn’t supposed to matter. She wasn’t supposed to stir this… violence in me.

And yet.. I hadn’t let a single blade touch her.

Not one.

It was the vow… it had to be.

The other one Jackson, bowed his head, kneeling low. His voice was gravel, low enough that only I could hear.

“From what we managed to hear… she wasn’t meant to arrive at BloodHowl alive.”

A smirk formed its way on my lips and I stared at the bloody corpses then back at her

“How many souvenirs did you get for me?”

“Two, One alive and one well… almost alive” Jethro calmly spoke as he stared at the direction they had come from.

“Good! Take them to the palace” I calmly replied as I sheathed my sword

“Okay your highness but we would need a carriage to get you and our princess back home” Jackson quickly spoke, his eyes darting between me, the human and the already destroyed carriage.

‘They called her princess? Already?’ Zorrak whispered.

“We’re not going with you.. Tell my mother the moon hangs low so I’m going on my honeymoon”