Amara squinted.
She rubbed her lashes which were still heavy with the last remnants of water dripping down her cheeks. The morning mist curled in lazy tendrils, clinging to her hair as she leaned forward, straining her ears and her eyes.
The bush in front of her definitely trembled again.
A hare? A deer, maybe, caught in one of those border traps?
That was common…cruel, but common. She had seen them before, poor creatures struggling until they broke their own bones.
Her bare toes curled into the cold, damp earth. Every instinct told her to turn away… but she stepped closer instead. Slowly.
Stepping outside the border without permission was illegal for someone with her status…stripped of all her titles, she wasn't even an Omega anymore… She was hardly more than a proper slave. Yet she couldn't just stand there and watch a poor, innocent animal suffer…not on her soul.
Branches snapped as she pushed her hand through, parting the thorny green with cautious fingers…
And froze.
Not a hare. Not even a deer.
It was a proper wolf… a werewolf.
His pelt was matted with blood, his flank torn open, breath rasping from his throat in broken wheezes. The silver infused jaws of the trap dug into his hind leg, already swollen and twisted at an unnatural angle.
Amara gasped, her body jerking back. Her foot slipped against the dirt, nearly making her fall.
The wolf's head snapped up…eyes locking onto hers. Eyes that were startlingly clear, even through the haze of pain.
And then, before she could move, before she could run…
The wolf shuddered…his body convulsed as fur sank back into skin. Bones cracked and reshaped…blood seeped through raw cuts as the beast shifted…leaving a man where the wolf had been.
A handsome,well built man…naked, bloodied, trembling…his chest heaving with shallow breaths.
His hair was dark mahogany, tangled and damp, his skin a map of tattoos, old scars and fresh wounds.
His lips were cracked, stained with blood, but his eyes… damn, his human eyes…dark hazel…fierce even in weakness…were fixed on her like she was his last anchor to the world.
His voice came rough, broken, almost pleading.
"Please… wait! Don't…don't call anybody…"
Amara's heart thudded so loudly she was certain the forest itself could hear it. Her knees locked. She couldn't move, couldn't even breathe.
The man dragged his bloodstained arm towards her, trembling…his fingers curled as if reaching for her.
"Help me," he rasped, "I… I can help you too."
Her breath stilled in her chest. Her mind screamed , "...danger, danger, danger…"
He was definitely no one from Dante's pack. That much she knew. She would have recognized him. His face was too… noble. His features were cut sharp, yet softened by something gentle in his gaze.
A spy? A rogue? A rival pack?
Why did he not feel like one?
Her body was rooted to the spot, torn between bolting and stepping closer.
Her silence seemed to give him strength…his voice gained urgency.
"I know…," he whispered, his tone strained but desperate. "I know you are trapped too. That he has your family."
The words pierced straight into her chest. Amara's lips parted, but no sound came out.
Her eyes narrowed, suspicion warring with a flicker of curiosity and caution. "What… what did you just say?"
The man saw it…the way her body stilled, the way her eyes sharpened despite her trembling hands. His expression shifted, sensing the crack in her armor… it seemed like he achieved his desired effect.
"I know," he pressed, inching forward as much as the cruel restraint around his leg would allow. His face twisted in pain, sweat beading along his temple. "I know he is holding them captive just to torment you. I can help get them out."
Her breath hitched.
She hadn't spoken of them to anybody…hadn't dared whisper their names in days. No one outside the pack should have known.
"How…how do you know that?" Her voice cracked, thin as air.
He coughed, dragging himself against the tree bark for support. His blood left smears across the wood…bright crimson against the pale grain.
"I swear on the Moon… and on my blood," he swore, voice ragged. His hazel eyes blazed even as his body sagged with weakness. "Help me… and I will help you. I mean it."
It felt like a clock was ticking above her head.
Each second heavier than the last, like a time bomb waiting to detonate.
She could hear her own pulse roaring in her ears.
The trap gleamed in the morning light…its teeth bit deeper into his flesh and bone.
Blood oozed steadily, pooling dark on the soil.
Amara's throat burned. She should have walked away or yelled for help. Or she should have left him there to die.
That was the safest choice.
And yet… her heart betrayed her.
Before she realized what she was doing, her hands moved on their own…they pressed against the metal jaw. Her breath came shallow, panic rising as she forced the stiff mechanism open.
The trap groaned in protest. Her muscles screamed with effort.
With a final snap, the jaws released.
The man let out a strangled gasp, collapsing forward, his body trembling violently against the dirt.
Amara's hands hovered above him…wet with his blood…her chest heaving as she stared down at him.
Somewhere in her mind, a voice whispered…"Moon have mercy, Amara…you just made a choice you can not undo."
And the forest fell silent around them till the man groaned again, coughing violently.
More blood splattered across the ground.
His body shook with the effort, but then…against all reason…he staggered to his feet.
Amara's eyes widened.
"Wait…you can't…"
Before she could finish, he lurched forward.
Too fast.
His nails…half formed claws still dripping blood…slashed across her arm.
Pain seared white hot up her nerves.
Amara's scream ripped out of her throat…sharp, startled…raw.
She stumbled back, clutching her arm, crimson welling between her trembling fingers.
Her breath caught, ragged, her heart a drum in her ears.
"What…what are you doing!?" she gasped, shock making her voice crack.
The man swayed, a twisted smile curving his pale lips. His eyes gleamed with something unreadable…Sorrow?Or cruelty?
He leaned closer,then whispered in a hoarse voice, "I am really sorry, sweetheart…"
A wink followed cutting through his expression.
"…This will save you from Dante's wrath."
And then…he was gone.
With a speed impossible for a man so injured, he vanished into the shadowed embrace of the forest, leaving only the echo of his footsteps, the smell of his blood, and the burning throb of her wound.
Amara stood frozen, chest heaving, her arm bleeding at an alarming rate. She could barely register anything beyond the pounding in her skull and the wet warmth of her own blood running free.
"Amara!!!!"
Boots thudded against the earth. Branches cracked.
The sharp voices of soldiers broke through the haze. In seconds, armed men stormed into the clearing, weapons drawn, eyes scanning the air still thick with the smell of blood.
Behind them trailed Martha and the other maids. Their mocking grins had dissolved, replaced with wide eyes and slack jaws.
One soldier shouted, "Blood! There's blood…over there!Damn…there was someone here…"
Another barked, "Check the trap!"
Martha's shrill voice cut through, high with disbelief, "What… What the hell happened here?"
Gasps rippled as all gazes landed on Amara.
Her jumpsuit clung to her like a second skin, streaked with mud and scarlet. She stood trembling, one arm clutched desperately against her side.
"She's bleeding," one maid whispered.
"Did… did she set someone free?" another murmured, horrified.
"Goddess, look at her…looks like she was attacked…"
Amara could hear them but not truly comprehend, their voices muffled by the roar in her ears. Her breath came shallow, body swaying as though the earth tilted beneath her.
And then she heard his voice.
Deep. Commanding. Rage woven into every syllable.
"MOVE!"
The air shifted with heavy authority.
Every soldier, every maid, flinched back instantly, stumbling to make way as the crowd split like a tide.
Through the gap, Dante stormed in.
His eyes burnt mercilessly as they snapped from Amara to the empty trap, then back to her bleeding arm. Once. Twice.
His chest rose with a deep, guttural sound, a growl caged in his ribs. His jaw tightened, the faintest flash of fang visible as his lips curled back.
Amara trembled beneath that gaze. Not because of her wound. Not because of the pain. But because of the impossible heat of his eyes on her…the weight of what he saw…rather, what she thought he saw.
For a moment, he just stood there, his breath sharp, shoulders tense, staring at her like the earth had cracked open at his feet.
Then, with a sound that was half a growl...a half dejected sigh, he moved.
In one swift motion, he bent down…his arms slid under her body.
"Wa…wait…" she gasped, but her protest barely formed before the strength of him lifted her with ease, cradling her against his chest as though she weighed nothing.
Her breath caught, her head pressed against the heat of him. His scent wrapped around her, instantly overwhelming every other sense.
Around them, silence fell.
The soldiers lowered their eyes. The maids stared, wide mouthed, unmoving.
Even Martha was struck speechless.
Dante didn't spare any of them a glance. His eyes were only on Amara, his jaw locked tight as though he would shatter his own teeth.
With a single step, he turned…his form blurring with Alpha speed.
And then he vanished into the trees, carrying her away… without bothering for any explanation.