Chapter 5: They Came For Me

Raven’s POV 

It didn’t take long for three wolves to break through the treeline.

The first was the color of winter steel, massive and scarred, his shoulders rolling with each stride like a landslide given fangs. He did not slow down or hesitate.

 He crashed into Kael with a force that sent the warrior flying. Kael swung his sword desperately, trying to hurt him.

The wolf caught the blade between his jaws, shattering it. It broke into a thousand pieces, looking like silver rain.

I didn’t notice when he shifted, but when I looked up, a man stood where the beast had been.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, his hair the same pale steel as his pelt, his eyes a burning amber that seemed to swallow the forest.

He wore no shirt and no armor. He did not need either. His body looked like it had been built for war, and for one stunned second, all I could think about was how beautiful he was. Ara stirred inside me, wanting a better glimpse of this magnificent man.

He stepped over the broken sword and placed himself between me and the warriors, his back to me, his shadow falling across my body like a wall.

“Who gave you permission to touch her?”

His voice was calm but had the weight of ten alphas.

The warriors stumbled backward, and I felt something strange move through my body.

Then the second wolf walked out.

He was golden, his coat catching the dim light like honey poured over stone. Where the first had been violence, this one was grace.

He shifted in a movement so smooth it looked like water rising into the shape of a man.

He was beautiful, his face gentle and almost feminine, his eyes the color of moss and old forests. He knelt at my side without looking at the warriors, without looking at Cassandra, his entire attention narrowing to me as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist.

His hands found the silver net. He hissed as it burned his fingers, but he did not stop pulling it from my body. He threw it far from me. Then he removed the heavy, fur-lined cloak from his shoulders and draped it over my naked body. 

His palms were warm against my jaw as he tilted my face toward his, checking my eyes, my pulse, the arrow still buried in my shoulder.

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured. His thumb brushed my cheekbone, wiping away dirt and blood. It was so tender that I felt like leaning into him. We are not giving you back to them.”

The third wolf came last.

He was black. Not the ordinary black of Shadow Claw, but a deep, endless darkness that seemed to drink the light around him.

He was smaller than the other two, lean and so silent that I hadn’t even heard him approach. 

He shifted, and the man who emerged had eyes the color of storm clouds. His expression gave nothing away, which somehow made him even more unpredictable.

He did not speak. He did not touch me yet. He simply knelt at my other side, his gaze falling to the silver arrow in my shoulder.

His hand hovered over the shaft, and he looked at me, ignoring the shocked warriors and even more shocked sister.

“May I?” he asked.

It was such a small thing. But after everything I had been through, hearing someone ask before touching me brought tears to my eyes. I nodded because I couldn’t really talk. And he was just so beautiful I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

He wrapped his hand around the arrow. He pulled it in one clean, swift motion. I gasped, but his other hand was already at my back, steadying me, holding me upright.

“You are safe now; I am here,” he said. That was enough for Ara to trust him completely. I moved closer to his arms, hiding my face in his chest. My actions shocked even me, but I needed him to stay alive at this moment.

Cassandra walked forward.

She had recovered from her shock; her face was back into the mask of the wounded, innocent Luna. She ran toward the three men, her hand outstretched, the small cut on her palm displayed like a badge.

“Your Highnesses, the great princes of Crescent Silver,” she breathed, her voice trembling with relief. “Thank goodness you are here. That rogue attacked me. She has lost control…she is dangerous, and feral, a threat to all of us. Please, you must protect the pack. You must…”

None of them looked at her.

Ansel stood with his arms loose at his sides, his amber eyes fixed on the warriors, daring them to move.

Asher adjusted the cloak around my shoulders, his fingers lingering at the clasp as if he were securing armor. Rowan remained kneeling, his hand still at my back, his storm-gray eyes studying my face with an intensity that made me feel seen down to my bones.

Cassandra faltered. Her hand hung in the air, unshaken. Her smile broke, not understanding what was happening.

For the first time in my life, someone was choosing me over my sister.

Matthew strode forward then, his face dark with fury. He pointed at me, his finger shaking with outrage. “She is a rogue from Shadow Claw Pack. This is an internal matter. You have no right to interfere in our territory.”

Ansel turned his head slowly. He didn’t have an ounce of emotion on his face. “The moment you threw her out of your territory,” Ansel said, each word dropping like a stone into still water, “she stopped belonging to you.”

Matthew’s face flushed. “She is weak and wolfless. Not to talk of how dangerous she is, she attacked my mate, she…”

A growl rose inside me. It started in Ara’s chest; it was deep and inhuman, a sound I had never made in my life. It poured out of my lungs sounding like thunder, pushing even the trees back.

And the wolves of all three princes answered.

Three howls split the air…not the hunting cries of before, but something different, like a song only I recognized. Ara lifted her head and sang back.

Mate. The word bloomed in my mind, clear and undeniable.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

Three times. Three voices. Three threads of something vast and terrifying and right pulling at my soul from three different directions.

I looked from Ansel to Asher to Rowan, my heart beating wildly against my ribs. “Which one of you,” I whispered, “is my mate?”

The brothers looked at one another. Speaking without words.

Then Asher smiled at me and answered. “It seems like it is all of us, princess.”

Cassandra groaned, clutching her chest. She staggered back, her hands flying to her mouth, her eyes wide with a horror I had never seen in her before.

She shook her head, denying it, refusing it; her perfect world was dissolving before her eyes.

Ansel bent and lifted me into his arms as if I weighed nothing.

Asher stepped in front of us, his golden eyes hardening, his body a barrier between the warriors who still gripped their weapons.

Rowan rose silently, his hand finding mine, his fingers threading through my blood-stained ones with a grip that said I am here. I am not letting go.

They turned and walked into the forest.

And as we left the clearing, as the howls of three princes faded into the dark, I looked back once.

Cassandra stood alone in the dirt, my crown slipping from her hair; she was screaming like a madwoman, begging for someone to listen to her, but for the first time, everyone was looking at me.