Wolves of Betrayal

Chapter : 42. A protector's instinct..

Amara’s eyes snapped open as a chill ran down her spine. The peaceful feeling that had washed over her moments before vanished, replaced by a sudden sense of unease. She glanced around, her heart pounding in her chest. The forest was still quiet, but there was something different now. Something off.

She could feel it—another presence. Someone was nearby.

Panic gripped her, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps as memories of her last Luna ceremony rushed to the forefront of her mind. She hadn’t sensed Marcus’s presence that night until it was too late, and now it felt like history was repeating itself.

No, she thought desperately. Not again.

Amara turned, ready to head back toward the packhouse, but before she could take more than a few steps, a blur of movement caught her eye. She barely had time to react before something—no, someone—slammed into her from the side, knocking her to the ground with a brutal force.

She hit the forest floor hard, the air knocked from her lungs as pain shot through her body and head. She gasped, trying to catch her breath, but before she could scramble to her feet, a hand wrapped around her throat, pinning her down.

Amara’s vision blurred as she struggled to breathe, her hands clawing at the one holding her down. She could see the silhouette of a figure above her, but the fading light made it hard to make out who it was. All she knew was that they were strong, stronger than she had anticipated.

“You shouldn’t have left the packhouse,” a voice hissed in her ear, sending a shiver of terror down her spine.

Amara’s heart raced, her mind screaming in panic. She tried to shift into her wolf, to call on Lyra for strength, but her wolf seemed distant, unreachable in her panicked state.

“Let… go…” she gasped, her vision swimming as the pressure on her throat increased.

Her attacker didn’t listen. Instead, they tightened their grip, leaning down close to her ear. “You’re not going to be Luna,” they sneered. “You don’t belong here.”

Amara’s mind raced as she fought to breathe, her body struggling against the weight holding her down. She felt like she was drowning, the world spinning around her as the panic grew. But even through the haze of fear, she knew one thing: she couldn’t let this happen again. She couldn’t let her past repeat itself.

With a surge of adrenaline, Amara bucked her hips, using all the strength she had left to throw her attacker off balance. They stumbled slightly, their grip loosening just enough for her to twist out from under them and scramble to her feet.

She didn’t waste a second. She bolted toward the packhouse, her legs trembling beneath her as she pushed through the pain and fear. She could hear her attacker behind her, their footsteps pounding against the forest floor as they chased her.

But this time, Amara wasn’t alone. This time, she had Lyra—and she had a pack that would protect her.

She let out a desperate howl, her voice ringing out through the trees, praying that someone—anyone—would hear her.

The sound of her howl echoed in the forest, and in the distance, she heard the answering howls of the Nightshade Pack. Help was coming.

Amara’s legs burned as she ran, her lungs screaming for air, but she didn’t stop. She wouldn’t stop. Not until she was safe. Not until she knew her pack was there.

Just as she neared the edge of the forest, she heard the sound of footsteps closing in behind her. Panic flared in her chest, but before her attacker could reach her, a figure appeared in front of her, blocking her path.

For a moment, her heart stopped, thinking it was another attacker. But then she saw him—Darius, his eyes glowing with fury, his wolf ready to tear apart whoever had dared to touch his mate.

Without a word, he lunged past Amara, his growl reverberating through the forest as he collided with the person chasing her. The force of his attack sent the figure flying backward, and Darius didn’t hesitate. He shifted into his wolf mid-air, his massive form tackling the intruder to the ground with a snarl.

Amara fell to her knees, gasping for breath as she watched Darius fight. His silver-gray wolf was a blur of motion, his teeth bared as he fought to protect her. She could hear the sounds of the pack approaching, their howls growing louder as they rushed to their Alpha’s side.

As the adrenaline slowly drained from her body, Amara’s vision blurred, her exhaustion finally catching up to her. But before the darkness claimed her, she saw Darius’s wolf standing tall, victorious over her attacker.

She was safe. Darius saved her once again.

[Moments earlier]

Darius’s sharp eyes scanned the Nightshade Pack grounds, the tension in his body palpable. The usual hum of pack life had been disrupted by a strange, uneasy feeling he couldn’t shake. His instincts, honed from years of leading and protecting, were tingling, telling him that something was wrong.

He had just returned from a meeting with a few of his trusted warriors, preparing the final arrangements for Amara’s Luna ceremony. The pack had been bustling with excitement, and everyone was eager to celebrate their Alpha and soon-to-be Luna. But even amidst the joy, something had gnawed at him, a sense that danger was lurking just beyond the surface.

“Alpha, something’s wrong,” one of his warriors had reported earlier. “There’s an unfamiliar scent near the northern border. It’s faint, but it’s there.”

Darius’s eyes had narrowed at the news. A faint scent could mean many things, but none of them were good. The Nightshade Pack’s borders were well-guarded, and no one was foolish enough to trespass without facing consequences. Whoever it was had to be skilled enough to slip through undetected—at least, until now.

Without hesitation, Darius had called for an increase in patrols, doubling the guard along the northern and western borders. But even as his warriors set out to investigate, Darius’s thoughts had turned immediately to one person—Amara.

The moment the thought of her entered his mind, a cold shiver ran down his spine. Amara was inside the packhouse, preparing for the ceremony with Maya and Helena, but something inside him told him she wasn’t as safe as he hoped. His connection to her was strong, a bond that went beyond the physical, and right now, that bond was vibrating with alarm.

He moved swiftly through the packhouse, his heart pounding harder with each step. He needed to see her, to make sure she was all right. He trusted his pack, but after everything Amara had been through, he wasn’t taking any chances.

When he reached her room, Darius found Maya and Helena still bustling around, making last-minute adjustments to the decorations and ceremony details. But Amara wasn’t there.

Maya looked up from where she was arranging flowers, her smile faltering when she saw the tension in Darius’s face.

“Alpha, is everything okay?” Maya asked, setting down the flowers.

Darius didn’t waste any time. “Where’s Amara?” he asked, his voice low and urgent.

Maya blinked, surprise flashing across her face. “She went for a walk,” she said, glancing out the window. “She was feeling anxious, so I told her to take a moment to clear her head.”

The moment Maya said those words, Darius’s entire body tensed. His heart dropped like a stone, dread tightening its grip around his chest. A walk. Alone. Out in the woods.

“Maya,” Darius said, his voice dangerously calm, “Amara should never be alone right now. There’s an intruder in our territory.”

Maya’s eyes widened, her face paling. “Oh no… Darius, I didn’t know. I thought she’d be safe—”

“She’s not,” Darius growled, already moving toward the door, his wolf surging beneath his skin. “She’s in danger.”

Without waiting for a response, Darius bolted from the room, his heart thundering in his chest. He could feel panic rising, but he forced it down. There was no time for fear. He had to find her. His mind raced as he called on their bond, trying to feel her presence, trying to sense where she might have gone.

He tore through the pack’s territory, his breath coming in sharp gasps as he pushed his body to move faster. The wind whipped through his hair, his muscles burning with the effort. His wolf howled inside him, demanding he shift, demanding he find her before it was too late.

The scent hit him first—Amara’s sweet, familiar scent mingled with something else. Something darker. A growl ripped from his throat as he caught the faint scent of another wolf, unfamiliar and dangerous.

Darius followed the scent, his body moving on pure instinct. His wolf was close to the surface now, his protective instincts roaring to life. He would tear apart anyone who dared to hurt Amara.