Chapter 3

"She looks anything but innocent," the Beta remarked with a smirk, and that comment ignited my fury. I shrugged off James's arm and advanced toward the Beta, eager to wipe that smug look from his face. But before I could get far, I was yanked back by the waist. My growl was visceral as I slapped away the hands restraining me—Travis's hands. After taking a deep breath and nodding to signal my regained composure, I redirected my glare at the Beta.

"Back off, Beta. I could kick your ass any day," I shot back with more confidence than I felt. He had the upper hand in both rank and gender—male werewolves are typically stronger, not to mention his status as a Beta.

"A fight to the death, then," he accepted casually. Panic bubbled within me; my bravado had just signed my death warrant.

"No! She's only 20, and it's hardly a fair fight. I won't let you harm her!" James protested vehemently, stepping forward to shield me.

"No, James," I said, turning to face him. Taking his hand, I continued, "I can distract them long enough for the rest of you to escape. There's no reason we should all perish. You saved me two years ago; now it's my turn." Tears broke free despite my efforts to hold them back, but James brushed them away gently.

"I can't le-"

"It's my choice, not yours! Just make sure everyone gets home safe." I bit back further tears, refusing to show weakness. James gave a solemn nod and kissed my forehead. I embraced him one last time, whispering farewells to each member of our rogue family.

Stepping between the pack and my rogue family, I let my instincts take over and shifted into my grey wolf. There was no need to remove my clothes; they were irrelevant now. The Beta and I faced each other in our wolf forms, the gravity of the situation heavy in the air. As I glanced back, I saw James being held back by some of the others, trying to prevent him from intervening on my behalf. I offered a small, wistful smile before focusing on the Beta again.

We circled one another, both seeking an opening. He struck first, leaping at me with lethal intent. I narrowly evaded his attack, fortunate that his jaws missed my flesh by mere inches. But luck was not on my side when he lunged again, raking his claws across my abdomen with a force that sent shockwaves of pain through me. I yelped and fell, only to find myself pinned down as his teeth sank into my neck. Each struggle only made his grip tighter, his bite deeper, and a sickening realization dawned on me—I wouldn't survive this wound.

As he released his bite, dragging his claws along my shoulder for good measure, I felt my life's blood flowing freely from multiple wounds. A howl of agony escaped me as darkness began to creep into the edges of my vision, my consciousness ebbing away. It was an odd sensation, to be aware of one's impending death, a curiosity many ponder but never truly understand until their final moment. And this was mine—far from what I ever imagined.

I shifted back to my human form amidst the chaos. Blood coated my body, stark against my skin. With great effort, I turned away from the violence, unable to watch my friends suffer any further. My vision blurred, pride touched me briefly—I had outlasted my own grim prediction for survival.

A faint smile played on my lips as I settled against the grass, closing my eyes to the cacophony of snarls and growling that filled the air. Suddenly, a commanding voice cut through the noise.

"Enough!" It carried the unmistakable tone of authority, resonating with masculinity. Curiosity piqued; I wished to see who wielded such a voice, but lethargy overwhelmed me. My eyelids refused to lift as the sounds of battle died down, replaced by muffled conversation beyond my fading senses.

The sound of numerous paws thundering against the ground drew my fading attention, but only a few seemed to remain near me. I tried to turn my head to identify them, pain lancing through me at the effort. A whimper was all I could muster before surrendering to stillness.

Shuffling footsteps approached, and then someone was gently rolling me onto my back. His scent enveloped me—a rich blend of caramel and chocolate, an irresistible concoction that briefly distracted me from the pain. My wolf stirred within my fading consciousness.

'Mate,' she whispered with what might have been her final breath.

A sense of profound sadness washed over me. My mate—my destined other half—had found me, but only in time to witness my death. I would never get to look into his eyes or run my fingers through his hair; I wouldn't even learn his name.

"Mine," he declared, his voice resonating with the same authority that had halted the battle. The realization hit me like a bolt: my mate was the Alpha.

"Baby, can you hear me? Please hold on, you're going to be okay. You can't leave me. Please, please." Desperation laced his words, and I wished nothing more than to reassure him, to tell him I was alright, but speech eluded me.

Strong arms cradled my body, lifting me with care. Something soft—a shirt or blanket—draped over me as I was carried away. My head rested against his chest, the steady beat of his heart a stark contrast to my own faltering pulse.

"Who did this to my mate! Someone will answer for this!" His fury was palpable, a storm waiting to be unleashed. "Baby, hang on, we're almost there. Just a little longer."

Though his words were meant to be comforting, they felt like a distant echo to me. My energy was waning, and darkness beckoned with a deceptive promise of peace. If only I could cling to life a little longer... for him.