Chapter 222
Irina’s POV
My white paws slammed against the frozen earth.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Every leap ate up the distance. Every stride felt like flying. The icy winter wind whipped through my thick, blinding fur. It carried the metallic scent of blood and fear, but I didn’t care. I felt alive.
Nicholas ran beside me. He was a massive, pitch-black shadow against the pale snow. Our shoulders brushed. Dark against light. Alpha against Luna. The physical touch sent violent sparks of pure electricity straight down my spine.
Through our blazing mate bond, I felt his wild, untamed power. But more than that, I felt his raw, unfiltered love. It fueled my muscles. It sharpened my claws.
I let out a fierce, vibrating growl.
For the first time in my entire miserable life, I felt infinite, unstoppable joy.
I was never free before. I was an unwanted burden. I was a punching bag. I was a pathetic, broken Omega hiding in dark closets. I used to pray for death just to escape the pain.
But right now? Right here?
I was a queen. I was a warrior. I was a terrifying predator running beside my equal.
The exhilaration was intoxicating. It tasted sweeter than anything I had ever known. My wolf purred in my mind. She reveled in the raw speed. She basked in the burning adoration radiating from our mate.
We burst into the dense tree line. The dark shadows swallowed us.
The rogue camp was pure chaos.
Panic tainted the freezing air. The remaining rogues scrambled in the bloody slush. They were dirty, feral, and desperate. They heard our massive tsunami of a roar. They knew death was coming.
They tried to run. They tried to hide behind broken tents and shattered trees.
But there was no escape. Not from us.
We hit them like a runaway freight train.
Nicholas didn’t hesitate. His massive black wolf launched into the air. He slammed into a group of three terrified rogues. The impact sounded like a car crash. He snapped a dirty rogue’s spine with one casual bite. He tossed another aside like a broken ragdoll.
He was pure, lethal efficiency.
I didn’t cower behind him. I chose my own target.
A massive, foul-smelling rogue lunged at my flank. His yellow teeth bared in a desperate snarl.
A year ago, I would have frozen. I would have dropped to my knees and waited for the fatal bite.
Not today.
I spun on my back paws. I dodged his clumsy attack with liquid grace. My heavy jaws clamped down hard on his thick neck. Hot copper flooded my tongue. I tore my head back with all my might. The rogue collapsed, lifeless in the red snow.
A fierce thrill rushed through my veins. I did it. I fought back.
A deafening chorus of snarls echoed behind us.
Our pack warriors flooded the clearing. They were a violent, unstoppable tide of muscle and fury.
Our combined Alpha and Luna auras drove them into an absolute frenzy. Their morale was through the roof. They were blind to pain. They were high on adrenaline and absolute loyalty.
Roman’s scarred gray wolf tackled a fleeing rogue. He tore the enemy’s throat out in one swift, brutal motion.
Andrei fought like a demon. His claws shredded everything in his path. He pinned a rogue to a tree and ended him in a second.
The royal elite guards moved in perfect, lethal rhythm. They didn’t just fight. They slaughtered. They swept through the broken camp, hunting down every last trace of the enemy.
The rogues never stood a single chance.
They were disorganized. They were terrified. And they faced the angriest, most dangerous pack in the world.
Within minutes, it was over.
The fighting stopped. The desperate screams faded into the freezing night. The only sounds left were the heavy, ragged pants of our victorious warriors and the soft crunch of snow under their paws.
Blood soaked the clearing. It painted the white snow a sickening crimson.
I stood in the center of the carnage. My chest heaved. I spat the bitter taste of rogue blood from my mouth.
The exhilaration slowly faded, replaced by a cold, sharp focus.
We won this skirmish. But the war wasn’t over.
I scanned the bloody battlefield. My golden eyes darted from corpse to corpse. I looked at the broken faces of the dead rogues.
My heart skipped a beat. A cold chill ran down my spine.
Something was very wrong.
Someone was missing.
Nicholas’s massive black wolf padded over to me. His red eyes glowed with the same unsettling realization. He brushed his bloody muzzle against my neck. It was a gesture of comfort, but I felt the tension coiled tight in his heavy muscles.
*‘He’s not here,’* his deep, dark voice echoed in my mind through our bond. *‘My father.’*
I froze.
He was right.
The former Alpha. The architect of all our nightmares. The man who ordered the slaughter of our people. He wasn’t among the dead. He wasn’t bleeding out in the snow.
Where was he?
Did he run away like a coward? Did he leave his miserable rogues to die while he escaped into the mountains?
No. That didn’t fit. He was too arrogant. He was too obsessed with power to abandon his twisted throne.
Nicholas and I shifted back simultaneously.
The familiar sound of bones snapping echoed in the quiet clearing. The cold air hit my naked, human skin. I didn’t care. The burning heat of my mate standing beside me kept the cold at bay.
Nicholas grabbed a discarded, blood-stained cloak from the ground. He wrapped it tight around my shoulders. His touch was gentle. It was a stark contrast to the brutal massacre around us.
He quickly pulled on a torn pair of combat pants he found near a fallen tent.
His broad, scarred chest heaved. He stared out at the dead bodies. His jaw clenched tight. A muscle ticked in his cheek.
Roman and Andrei shifted back too. They stood at the edge of the clearing, respectfully looking away from us as they grabbed random clothes from the debris.
"Alpha," Roman called out. His voice was hoarse. He wiped a smear of blood from his chin. "The camp is clear. Every rogue is dead."
Nicholas didn’t look at him. His forest-green eyes scanned the dark, menacing tree line.
"He’s not dead," Nicholas said. His voice was quiet and dangerous. It was the calm before a massive hurricane.
Roman frowned. He stepped over a corpse. "Your father? We checked every body, Alpha. He’s not here."
"He didn’t run," Nicholas growled. He crossed his massive arms over his chest. "He’s a snake. Snakes don’t run. They hide. They wait in the dark to strike your heel."
My stomach tied itself into painful knots. I pulled the rough cloak tighter around myself. I stared into the pitch-black woods. Every shadow suddenly looked like a threat. Every tree trunk looked like a hiding spot.
The silence in the woods felt oppressive. It felt heavy. It felt like a trap.
I held my breath. I strained my enhanced Luna hearing.
Nothing. Just the wind.
Then, I heard it.
Rustle. Rustle.
It was a tiny, faint sound. It came from a dark, rocky corner at the very edge of the destroyed camp. It sounded like a heavy boot dragging against the frozen gravel. Like someone trying very hard to be silent, and failing.
My head snapped toward the sound. My heart hammered against my ribs.
Nicholas heard it too.
His entire body went rigid. The air around him dropped ten degrees. The terrifying, suffocating pressure of his Alpha aura exploded out of him all over again.
He didn’t shift back into his wolf. But the beast inside him sat right at the surface, ready to tear the world apart.
He turned his head slowly toward the dark corner.
Nicholas frowned, his expression serious. "There."