The Alpha’s Human Sacrifice

7.

The moment Josephine urged her horse through the archway, the world shifted.

The heavy, electric buzz of the portal faded, replaced by an air so different from home it nearly stole her breath. The forest on this side was alive—not just alive in the way of trees and plants but…alive. The trunks of the massive trees shimmered faintly, their bark rippling like water under sunlight. Strange, glowing vines twisted up their lengths, pulsing faintly like veins carrying an unseen current.

The ground beneath the horses’ hooves was carpeted in moss that glowed faintly green with every step, as though reacting to their presence. The air was heavier yet somehow lighter, like it pressed against her skin but filled her lungs with a strange, invigorating energy.

Josephine inhaled deeply, the unfamiliar scent flooding her senses: a mix of pine, earth, and something sweeter—something utterly foreign. It was intoxicating.

She swayed slightly in her saddle, gripping the reins tighter to steady herself. Her head felt light, her body almost weightless, like she was floating.

“Magic,” Torin murmured from behind her, his voice low but firm.

She turned her head slightly, her wide green eyes meeting his amber ones. He nodded once, as if in confirmation.

Magic..

She looked around, her awe impossible to contain. The shifter realm was unlike anything she had imagined. Back home, the forests were sparse, dry, and lifeless. This place—this otherworldly realm—was lush, vibrant, alive.

For the first time since her name had been called at the ritual, Josephine felt a flicker of something other than fear.

Curiosity.

She leaned slightly forward, her eyes darting to the small glowing creatures flitting between the trees. They looked like birds but shimmered like fireflies, their translucent wings leaving trails of light behind them. Farther ahead, a massive, slow-moving creature that looked like a cross between a deer and a wolf emerged from the shadows, its golden eyes flicking toward them briefly before disappearing into the brush.

A part of her was almost grateful. Had she not been chosen as the Alpha’s bride, she never would have seen this—never would have known such a world existed.

The thought flickered for less than a second before she crushed it.

«What does it matter? I’ll be dead soon anyway»

“You’re quiet,” Dren’s voice broke through her thoughts, sharp and smooth all at once. He didn’t slow his horse, but his silver eyes flicked to her briefly, his tone faintly amused.

Josephine frowned. “Should I not be?” she asked warily.

Dren chuckled softly. “I expected awed cries and whispers. Or perhaps fear.”

Josephine’s jaw tightened. “Would you prefer I start screaming?”

Vale snorted from where he rode ahead, his yellow eyes gleaming with mischief as he turned his head slightly. “Please don’t,” he said mockingly. “I’d hate to lose my hearing before we even get you to the Alpha.”

Josephine ignored the comment, focusing instead on the glowing forest around her. “What is this place?” she asked after a moment, her voice quieter. “I mean, I know it’s the shifter realm, but… what is it, really?”

Dren tilted his head slightly, his gaze flicking to the trees. “It’s the heart of our world,” he said. “A place shaped by magic, forged by the hands of those who came before us.”

“Shifters?” she asked hesitantly.

“Among others,” he replied.

Josephine frowned. “Others?”

Dren’s silver eyes gleamed faintly. “You humans have a tendency to simplify things,” he said, his tone light but edged with condescension. “Shifters aren’t the only ones who call this realm home. There are fae, for instance—tricksters who wield magic like a blade. Then there are the dragons—creatures of fire and fury, though they rarely bother with the affairs of mortals or wolves.”

Josephine’s breath caught. “Dragons?”

Dren smirked faintly, his silver eyes glinting. “Yes, dragons. They’re not the stories you humans tell in your firelit gatherings. They are real—creatures of unmatched power. But like I said, they have little interest in wolves, humans, or any of our conflicts. They remain in their mountain peaks, watching, waiting.”

“For what?” she asked, unable to stop herself.

“Who knows?” Vale called over his shoulder, his grin sharp. “Dragons don’t exactly keep us updated on their schedules. But if they ever come down from those peaks, it won’t be for tea and biscuits.”

Josephine ignored him, her gaze shifting to the luminous forest. “And the fae?”

Dren’s expression hardened slightly. “The fae are… complicated,” he said carefully. “They ruled this realm long before the shifters came to power. Their magic runs deep, woven into the land itself. But they are not allies. They are not friends. They are Dangerous in ways your kind can’t even begin to fathom.”

Josephine shivered, her grip tightening on the reins.

“And then, of course,” Vale added with a smirk, “there’s us.”

“Us?” she echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Shifters,” Vale said, his voice dripping with exaggerated pride. “The wolves, the felines, and other predatory creatures.”

Dren’s sharp glare silenced Vale before he could continue. She didn’t know why they were actually telling her all these, but she wasn’t complaining.

“That’s enough,” Dren said, his tone colder now.

Vale shrugged but didn’t press further, though his smirk remained firmly in place.

As the journey stretched on, Josephine’s awe was slowly replaced by weariness.

Her legs ached, her back throbbed, and the weight of the dress felt heavier with each passing hour. But she bit her tongue, refusing to complain. She didn’t want to give Vale the satisfaction.

The forest began to change as they traveled deeper. The glowing trees grew thicker, their roots twisting together to form almost impenetrable walls. The moss beneath them darkened, its faint glow dimming as if the light was being drained. The air grew cooler, the sweet scent replaced by something sharper, tinged with iron.

Josephine frowned, glancing around uneasily. “Why does it feel… different here?”

Dren didn’t answer immediately. His eyes scanned the trees, his body tense.

“We’re entering contested territory,” he said finally, his voice low. “The bears claim these lands, though they have no right to them.”

Josephine’s stomach twisted. “Why would they claim them if they’re yours?”

“Because the bears don’t understand boundaries,” Vale said with a sneer. “But don’t worry, those bastards had mostly been dealt with. And this is not a path they usually frequented.”

Josephine’s grip on the reins tightened, her eyes darting to the thickening trees around them. “Mostly?” she repeated, her voice edged with doubt.

Vale chuckled darkly. “Relax, little bride. If the bears were here, we’d know.”

“Would we?” she asked sharply, her unease spilling into her tone.

Dren shot Vale a sharp glare, silencing his retort. “Enough,” he said firmly. Turning to Josephine, his voice softened slightly. “There’s no need to worry. This route has been scouted extensively. You’re safe with us.”

Safe. The word hung in the air, hollow and unconvincing.

Josephine bit her lip, her gaze flicking between the emissaries. Torin’s hulking figure at the rear of their group provided some measure of reassurance, his silence more comforting than Vale’s grating arrogance. But the forest seemed to press closer with every step, the once-magical glow replaced by an oppressive shadow.

Before she could ask more, a low and guttural growl cut the air like a blade, sending ice racing through her veins.

Josephine’s heart lurched, her breath catching painfully in her chest. The sound was deep and primal, vibrating through the air like a warning from the earth itself.

Dren’s eyes snapped to the shadows, narrowing sharply. He was extremely tensed, his entire frame coiled like a spring. Vale reined in his horse abruptly, the smirk vanishing from his face as his eyes darted toward the source of the sound.

Torin’s low growl rumbled from the back of the group, his amber eyes glowing faintly as he scanned the dense forest.

Josephine’s pulse thundered in her ears as the air around them grew colder, the sharp tang of iron cutting through the once-sweet scent. Her fingers tightened on the reins, her knuckles white as she tried to steady her breathing.

Another growl followed, louder this time, closer.

And then they appeared.

Massive forms emerged from the dense underbrush, their fur dark and matted, their glowing eyes fixed on the group with predatory intent. The bears were enormous, their hulking frames dwarfing even the wolves.

There were six of them—no, seven.

Josephine’s breath hitched as the largest of them stepped forward, its muscles rippling beneath its thick coat. It let out a deafening roar, the sound rattling through her bones and sending her horse into a startled rear.

“Run,” Dren barked, his voice sharp as a blade. “Now!”

Before she could react, the wolves moved.

It was seamless, terrifying. Their bodies contorted, bones snapping and reshaping with a sickening crunch. Fur erupted from their skin, claws and fangs elongating as they shifted into massive, monstrous beasts.

Torin was the largest, his dark fur bristling as he let out a thunderous roar. Vale’s wiry frame became lean and deadly, his yellow eyes blazing with a savage glee. Dren’s silver coat shimmered faintly in the dim light, his wolf form sleek and deadly, his glowing eyes fixed on the advancing bears.

Josephine froze, her mind racing as she stared at the three wolves. They were monsters, towering and vicious, their snarls reverberating through the air.

“Roar!” Vale roared, his guttural voice barely recognizable, but she knew he wanted her to run.

The command jolted her into motion. She yanked the reins, urging her horse forward as fast as it could go.

The sound of the battle exploded behind her—roars, snarls, the sickening crunch of bone meeting flesh.

Josephine didn’t dare look back.

Her heart pounded painfully as her horse leapt over roots and dodged low-hanging branches, its glowing hooves striking the moss with every stride.

But the chaos followed her.

The earth seemed to shake beneath the weight of the bears as two of them broke away from the fight, their massive forms barreling after her.

Josephine’s breath came in ragged gasps as she urged her horse faster, her fingers gripping the reins so tightly they burned.

The first bear lunged, its claws swiping through the air inches from her leg.

Josephine screamed, her heart slamming against her ribcage as she leaned forward, desperate to put more distance between them.

The second bear roared, its massive jaws snapping as it closed the gap.

Tears blurred her vision, her entire body trembling as the sound of their pursuit grew louder.

I’m going to die, she thought, the realization hitting her like a blow. I’m going to—

Her horse screamed—a high, piercing sound that sent a shiver down her spine.

Josephine barely had time to register the sudden burst of light before the world seemed to tilt.

The bears lunged again, their massive bodies colliding with a force that sent her flying from the saddle.

She hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the air from her lungs as pain shot through her side.

Josephine gasped, scrambling to her knees as the bears loomed over her, their glowing eyes locked onto hers.

Her heart thundered in her chest as she backed away, her hands scraping against the rough ground.

“Stay back!” she screamed, her voice cracking with terror.

The largest bear growled low, its massive paw striking the ground as it prepared to lunge.

Josephine’s breath caught, her vision tunneling as the beast reared up, its massive shadow swallowing her whole.