Page 51 of Alpha Charmed

“That’s ominous.”

“Dragons are ominous by nature. Chione more than most.” I duck under a branch that seems to have grown specifically to inconvenience me. “Grandmother Sylvana met her once, fifty years ago. Said it took her a week to stop shaking afterward.”

“Your grandmother doesn’t shake.”

“Exactly.” I squeeze her hand. “But Peach said Chione is willing to see us. That has to count for something.”

I stop at a ridge overlooking a valley shrouded in mist. “We’re entering the deep territory. Past this point, the land doesn’t follow normal rules. Stay close.”

The mist swallows us as we descend. Sound dampens. Light filters through in strange patterns that don’t match any angle the sun could achieve. I’ve been here before—once, during my alpha trials, when I had to prove I could navigate the impossible—but it feels different with Anouk beside me. The forest seems less hostile. More curious.

“Caius.” Her voice is soft. “Something’s wrong.”

I stop instantly, every sense sharpening. “What do you⁠—”

The attack comes from three directions at once.

Four figures materialize from the mist—faces obscured, magic primed, moving with the coordinated precision of trained operatives. Preservers. I recognize the way they cast, the formation they use, the ruthless efficiency of their approach.

Someone told them exactly where we’d be.

I shift before conscious thought catches up.

Wolf takes over—teeth bared, muscles coiling, the protective fury of a predator defending what belongs to him. Two of them go down before they can complete their casting. My jaws find vulnerable flesh. My claws tear through whatever magical protection they thought would save them.

Blood on my tongue. Screams in my ears. The satisfying crunch of bone giving way.

Behind me, Anouk’s power erupts.

This is controlled devastation—precise, focused, deadly when she chooses to be. She moves through combat like it’s choreography, her spells hitting with surgical accuracy.

One attacker flies backward into a tree, the impact hard enough to splinter ancient wood. Another finds himself wrapped in vines that grow from the earth itself, binding him where he stands, thorns digging into flesh.

Another comes at me from the side. I twist, catch his arm in my jaws, and feel bone crack beneath the pressure. He screams, drops his casting focus, stumbles backward, clutching the ruin of his limb.

The last runs.

Every instinct demands pursuit. The hunt. The satisfying end of prey brought down. But Anouk is breathing hard behind me, and the need to protect overrides the urge to destroy.

I shift back, the transition smoother than it’s ever been—the claiming has changed things, made the wolf and man more integrated. My clothes are ruined, torn to shreds during the transformation. I don’t particularly care.

“They knew.” Anouk’s voice is cold, controlled. The devastation she wrought is already fading, vines retreating into the earth, magical residue dispersing into the mist-heavy air. “Someone told them exactly where we’d be.”

“Cordelia.”

I move to her side, my hands running over her arms, her shoulders, her face. Checking for injuries. A scratch on her forearm, minor but enough to make my wolf snarl. A bruise forming on her hip where she dodged a spell a heartbeat too slow.

I find the scratch and press a kiss to the skin beside it because I need to, because she’s mine and she’s hurt and reason refuses to fully reassert itself. “She’s getting desperate. That’s dangerous but also useful.”

“Useful how?”

“Desperate people make mistakes. These agents weren’t subtle—someone will have noticed them entering pack territory. Elio’s network tracks every unfamiliar magical signature within fifty miles of Mistvale. By the time we return, he’ll have a complete dossier on where they came from and who sent them.”

“You think she’ll be exposed?”

“I think she’s running out of options.” I pull her close, needing to feel her against me after the fight, needing to confirm she’s whole and breathing and alive. She comes without protest, her arms wrapping around my waist, her face pressing against my chest.

We stand there for a moment, letting the adrenaline fade. The mist curls around us—protective now, steadying. The forest has decided we’ve earned our passage.