Nadja II
Nadja lost sight of Rebeca, and the sounds of wolves running in her direction were the most despairing noise of her young life.
She was alone, in the middle of a dark forest, being chased by beasts, and her only friend had vanished from view. Her weak body barely managed to keep moving, but she knew that if she gave up, she would never have another chance to escape.
Her bare feet insisted on moving beyond her strength. It was a wintry night, and she was wearing only a thin, long servant's dress, yet sweat was dripping from her cold forehead.
Despair was the only emotion that inhabited her being. Everything happened so suddenly that she had no time to think. She headed towards where she believed she would find the river, unaware that she was going in the opposite direction of her friend.
— There she is, get her!
The voice of one of the cruelest guards reached her ears, and her body found the strength to run faster. A small trail of blood was left by her bloodied feet. She suddenly stopped and let out a scream of terror. She was at the edge of a cliff, with nowhere else to run.
Furthermore, she turned towards where she had seen, and a tall male emerged from the dense forest with a cruel smile on his lips.
— There's nowhere to go, little girl! It’s better to come quietly; if you obey me properly, I may convince the boss to go easy on your punishment!
That man terrified her even more than the so-called "boss." His gaze was predatory in a way that her innocent mind could not comprehend, but her instincts knew it was wicked. She could not go back with him; if she did, the malice he exuded would hit her freely before he handed her over to the gang leader.
Nadja took a step back without taking her eyes off of the cruel wolf. He raised his hands as if surrendering and spoke in a mocking tone: — Be careful, you might fall, and you don't want to hurt that beautiful little body, do you? Not before daddy here gets a taste, right?
Nadja felt her heart tighten with the images her mind produced of what that man intended to do with her. In an instant, she turned towards the abyss.
— Girl, don’t be crazy, come here!
Nadja closed her eyes and jumped towards death.
Dérik turned his hand from side to side, his claws cutting into the flesh of the enemy's belly. The hot, sticky blood dripped down his forearm to the elbow. The body fell backward, lifeless.
Seeing that the leader was dead, the survivors of the packless Wolves, who could still run, fled, leaving the wounded behind.
This was the third attack by packless wolves against the Black Wolves Pack in the same lunar cycle (one month). Groups of rogues (packless wolves) were joining forces in an attempt to take down the Alpha and seize the territory. Four years ago, the rumor that Alpha Dérik no longer possessed the third form spread quickly, soon after the naming of the clan's Luna.
— We won, Alpha! — Beta Eli approached, his body as dirty with blood as the Alpha's.
— How many did we lose this time? — Dérik asked, his gaze distant.
Eli lowered his head, thinking of the brothers lost in battle weighed heavily on his heart.
— Alpha, three males were killed and Adanir was severely injured.
Dérik ran his hand over his face, displeased.
— Where is he?
— He was taken to old Agar’s hut, unconscious.
Dérik felt his soul becoming darker. There was no hope for his pack's future. He was an Alpha without a soulmate, his third form disappeared as soon as he named a female from the harem as Luna, four years ago.
In a desperate measure, upon receiving a visit from a born Luna and her mate, he let desperation take over and tried to outsmart fate. He drugged the couple so they would mate on his territory in the hope that the females would be able to bear pups, but as soon as the couple left the territory, miscarriages followed and the shadow of death never left the pack again.
Only one pup survived, an heir for a pack on the brink of extinction.
The Luna enthroned by him did not have the power of a true Luna, and his beast retreated into the void, abandoning him since then.
The rumors were true, he no longer reached the feared third form. As a devoted Alpha, he protected his pack with all his strength, but there was no hope for his people.
Only a miracle could restore them, and Dérik did not believe in miracles.