Kael's POV
The rogues stepped out of the shadows like smoke twisting into flesh. One blocked my path, then another, until I felt the weight of their eyes on me from all sides. Their movements were jerky but precise, too coordinated to be wild, too savage to be civilized. They moved with a hunger that wasn't human, wasn't even wolf—something more rabid, something desperate.
The night pressed down heavy. Damp mist curled along the ground, carrying the stench of blood and rot. My wolf stirred uneasily inside me, every muscle tightening as their low growls thickened the air.
Their leader pushed forward, his presence heavier than the rest. Scarred face, eyes burning like coals, his voice a low growl that carried authority.
"You've got a death wish, stranger," he snarled. "Why interfere with my operation in this town?"
I didn't flinch. My fists stayed at my sides, tight enough that my knuckles popped.
"Your operation?" I spat. "That's what you call terrorizing innocent humans? Extorting them? Slaughtering anyone who resists?"
A chorus of snarls rolled around me. The circle closed tighter, rogues' shoulders brushing against one another, claws flexing as they waited for the command.
The leader's lips curled back, exposing sharp teeth. He circled me slowly, eyes narrowed, his body language deliberate, testing. "What's your deal then, huh? You some kind of lost alpha? A stray wolf playing hero?"
I didn't answer. Not immediately. My wolf surged inside me, pressing hard against my control. Rage burned in my veins like molten fire. I folded my hands across my chest, not because I was calm, but because if I didn't, I'd already be tearing his throat out.
He saw it—my restraint, the way my chest heaved—and he smirked. He leaned close enough that I could feel his breath hot against my ear.
"Or maybe…" he drawled, "…you're just a nobody, too weak to belong anywhere. A bastard wolf who doesn't even deserve a pack."
That word—bastard—struck deeper than claws. It echoed off every wound, every rejection, every shadow of the past I tried to bury.
My restraint snapped.
My fist connected with his jaw in a thunderous crack, the impact so fierce it launched him backward, meters through the air. He smashed into two rogues behind him, sending them tumbling like broken dolls.
For a breath, silence. Then chaos erupted.
They lunged. Snarls, claws, fangs—fury and violence in raw form.
The first came at me low; I kneed him in the skull, snapping bone. Another raked claws across my back, hot pain flaring as I spun and slammed him into the wall hard enough to crater the brick. I fought like fire, my body moving on instinct, each blow fueled by the rage I kept caged.
But rogues never fought clean. One sank teeth into my forearm, tearing flesh. Another clawed across my ribs, shredding fabric and skin. For every one I dropped, more pressed in, wild-eyed and relentless.
My wolf roared inside me, begging to be unleashed, to take control. For a heartbeat, I almost let go—almost surrendered to the change that would tear me apart and them with me. But I clamped down, teeth grinding. I wouldn't lose myself. Not to them.
The leader rose, blood dripping from his mouth where I'd split his lip. His eyes burned brighter now, his fangs extended, nails lengthening into curved blades that glistened in the dim light.
"Hold him!" he bellowed.
They swarmed me. Hands clamped around my arms, claws dug deep into my shoulders, forcing me down. I fought like a storm, fury blazing, muscles tearing with the strain, but even I couldn't throw off six at once. Their combined weight pressed me to the ground, knees crashing onto the cold concrete. My chest heaved, vision edged in red.
The leader approached slowly, savoring the sight. His cruel smile spread wider as he crouched before me, close enough that his stinking breath washed over my face. His eyes gleamed with triumph.
"You've got fire," he murmured. "I like that. But fire can be snuffed out."
A flash of memory seared through me. The girl—barely thirteen—found in the forest days ago. The humans called it a wild animal attack. Too clean. Too savage. But I knew better. Rogues. These rogues. My jaw clenched as I spat through gritted teeth, "We were meant to protect them. To stay hidden. To keep balance. And you—you're ruining everything."
The leader only chuckled darkly, unbothered, crouching closer as if my words were smoke in the wind. His cruel smile spread wider, eyes gleaming with mockery.
"You talk about balance? About protecting humans?" he sneered, voice dripping venom. "They're sheep. Weak, pathetic creatures that exist only to be hunted. We don't hide from them—we feed on their fear. Every scream, every drop of blood spilled, strengthens us. That's the future, wolf. Not shadows. Not secrecy. Dominion."
His words hit like acid, but before I could respond, his hand pressed against my chest. His nails dug in, slow, deliberate, breaking skin, sinking deeper with a sickening sting.
I gritted my teeth as pain flared white-hot, my heart pounding against his invading claws. Every beat felt like it slammed into his hand, defying him.
"I'll rip out this wolf heart," he hissed, voice a whisper of venom, "and see just how long your fire lasts."
I refused to give him the satisfaction of a sound. Not a growl, not a cry. My head stayed high even as blood trickled down my chest, soaking into my shirt. My wolf thrashed inside me, howling for release, I almost did.
Then...
A sound split the night.
A growl. Low, deep, ancient. It rolled through the ground, rattling the air, vibrating through the rogues' bones, through mine. It wasn't the sound of anger—it was command.
The rogues froze. The leader stiffened, his claws halting inches from my heart. His eyes flicked sideways, the cruel grin faltering.
Every head turned.
From the shadows behind us, glowing eyes pierced the darkness. Not one pair—several. Golden, unblinking, filled with an authority that silenced the night itself.
The growl came again, sharper, layered, as though the earth itself spoke. The rogues shifted uneasily, some whimpering, their grip on me faltering.
Not a rogue. Not human.
Something else.
Something older.