Chapter 50 CHAPTER FORTY
ALORA
The attack comes two days early.
I'm in the pack house library with Sarah, trying to focus on defensive strategy maps, when the alarm howls through the building. My blood turns to ice.
"They're here," Sarah whispers, her face going pale.
Through the bond, I feel Alex's immediate response, rage so hot it burns through our connection. Then his command, sharp and absolute.
"Stay in the safe room. Now."
"Alex—"
"NOW, ALORA."
The Alpha command in his voice makes my wolf whimper in submission. Sarah grabs my hand, pulling me toward the basement. Other non-combatants are already flooding the corridors, mothers clutching children, elders moving as fast as they can.
"This way," Marcus appears beside us, his face grim. Blood already stains his tactical gear. "They breached the eastern perimeter. At least forty wolves, maybe more."
"Forty?" My stomach drops. "That's twice what the intelligence said—"
"They lied." His jaw clenches. "Or our intel was wrong. Either way, we're outnumbered."
He hustles us into the reinforced safe room, where dozens of pack members are already huddled. The space feels too small, too confined. Through the bond, I feel Alex moving, fighting, his rage building with each passing second.
"I need to go to him," I say, moving back toward the door.
Marcus blocks my path. "Absolutely not. The Alpha gave explicit orders—"
"He's losing control." I can feel it through the bond. The berserker rage that runs in his bloodline, usually kept carefully contained, is starting to surface. "Marcus, if he fully loses it—"
"Then we deal with it." His expression is hard. "But you staying safe is what keeps him anchored. If you're in danger, he'll lose it faster."
He's probably right. But the bond pulls at me, demanding I go to my mate. Demanding I help.
An explosion rocks the building. Screams echo from above.
"They're in the pack house," someone whimpers.
Through the bond, I feel Alex's response, a roar of pure rage that makes my ears ring even from this distance. Then his presence changes, becomes something darker. More primal.
"Oh no," I whisper. "He's shifting."
"Good." Marcus is checking weapons, preparing to go back up. "We need the Beast right now."
"You don't understand." I grip his arm. "When he shifts like this, when he's this angry, he doesn't come back easily. His father had the same rage. They called it—"
"Berserker state. I know." Marcus meets my eyes. "I've seen it once before. When his family was killed. He tore through fifteen wolves before he could be brought down." He pauses. "But this time, he's stronger. And he has something to protect."
Another explosion. Closer this time.
"They're trying to breach the safe room," Marcus says, moving to the door. "Everyone against the back wall. Now."
I help Sarah move the children to the safest corner, my heart pounding. Through the bond, I feel Alex getting closer. Fighting his way toward us with single-minded determination.
Then I feel something else. Pain. Sharp and sudden, tearing through his shoulder.
"He's hurt," I gasp, pressing my hand to my own shoulder where phantom pain blooms.
"He'll heal." Marcus positions himself in front of the door with five other warriors. "Silver Creek wolves heal fast."
"Not fast enough if they're using silver weapons."
The door shudders under a heavy impact. Then another. They're trying to break through.
"Here they come," Marcus growls. "Protect the Luna at all costs."
The door explodes inward. Three wolves pour through the opening—Eastern Pack, I recognize the markings. Marcus and his warriors meet them head-on, and the safe room erupts into chaos.
I push Sarah and the children further back, trying to shield them with my body. But one wolf breaks through Marcus's line, heading straight for me.
My wolf surges forward, demanding to shift. Demanding to fight. But I can't—not here, not with all these witnesses who still don't trust what I am.
The wolf lunges. I throw myself to the side, barely avoiding teeth aimed at my throat. He's trying to capture me, not kill me. That makes him more dangerous.
Then a roar shakes the entire building.
The attacking wolf freezes, his head snapping toward the doorway. Through the bond, I feel Alex's rage reach a crescendo. Feel the moment he fully lets go of his control and becomes something else.
Something terrifying.
A massive black wolf crashes through what's left of the doorway. But this isn't Alex's normal wolf form. This is bigger, darker, with silver-tipped fur that seems to glow with power. His eyes burn pure silver, no trace of recognition in them.
The berserker.
He tears into the Eastern Pack wolves with savage efficiency. No strategy, no hesitation. Just pure, brutal violence. Blood sprays across the safe room walls as he rips through them like they're made of paper.
"Everybody down!" Marcus yells.
I drop to the floor, pulling children with me. Through the bond, I try to reach Alex, try to calm him.
"Alex, it's okay. I'm safe. You can stop now."
Nothing. The bond is there, but it's like shouting into a hurricane. His berserker rage has him completely.
He kills the last Eastern Pack wolf and spins toward Marcus, snarling. Marcus holds his ground, but I see his hand shake.
"Alpha," Marcus says carefully. "Stand down. The threat is eliminated."
Alex's wolf doesn't recognize him. I feel it through the bond—right now, everyone is either pack to protect or threats to destroy. And his ability to distinguish between the two is gone.
"Alex!" I push to my feet, ignoring Sarah's protest. "Look at me!"
His head swings toward me, and for a moment, I see nothing in those silver eyes. No recognition. No humanity.
Just rage.
"It's me," I say softly, taking a step toward him. Everyone in the room goes deadly silent. "It's Alora. Your mate."
He snarls, taking a step forward. Blood drips from his muzzle.
"I know you're in there." I take another step, my heart pounding. "I can feel you through the bond. You're fighting so hard to protect me, but I need you to come back now. I need my Alex back."
His wolf takes another step toward me. Marcus shifts his weight, ready to intervene.
"Don't," I say without looking at him. "If you attack, he'll kill you. This has to be me."
I'm close enough now to touch him. Close enough to see the battle raging behind those silver eyes—man fighting beast, control fighting rage.
"Please," I whisper, placing my palm on his massive head. "Come back to me."
For a moment, nothing happens. Then I feel it—my healing power flowing through our bond without conscious thought. Not healing physical wounds, but soothing the rage. Cooling the fire burning through his mind.
His wolf shudders under my touch. The glow in his eyes flickers.
"That's it," I murmur, letting more power flow. "You're safe. I'm safe. Everyone you love is protected. You can let go now."
The shift ripples through him, and suddenly Alex is kneeling in front of me in human form, covered in blood, shaking violently. His eyes are his own again, but haunted.
"Alora," he gasps, pulling me against him. "I couldn't stop. I felt you in danger and I just—I couldn't—"
"Shh." I hold him tight, ignoring the blood soaking into my clothes. "I know. It's okay. You saved us."
"I killed them all." His voice breaks. "Every wolf that came through that door. I couldn't differentiate. Marcus—I almost attacked Marcus—"
"But you didn't." I pull back to look at his face. "You came back. You heard me and you came back."
"Because of you." His hands frame my face, and I see tears mixing with blood. "You pulled me out of it. No one's ever done that before."
"The bond," I say softly. "My healing. It works on more than just physical wounds."
Around us, pack members are staring. Some in awe, some in fear. They just watched their Alpha lose complete control, then watched me bring him back from the edge.
"Status report," Alex says, his voice rough but back to normal. He's still holding me like I might disappear.
"Eastern perimeter is secured," Marcus says, his relief obvious. "They retreated after you... after the safe room was defended. Casualties on our side—twelve dead, thirty wounded. Enemy casualties—at least twenty confirmed kills."
"Most of those were yours," one warrior says, looking at Alex with something between respect and terror.
Alex's jaw tightens. "How many did I kill after the threat was neutralized?"
Silence.
"How many, Marcus?"
"Three," Marcus admits quietly. "They were trying to surrender. You didn't—couldn't recognize the surrender signs."
Horror flashes across Alex's face. Through the bond, I feel his anguish. He killed wolves who were yielding. The kind of thing an Alpha in berserker rage does. The kind of thing that proves the elders right.
"I need to address the pack," he says, starting to stand. His legs give out, and I catch him.
"You need medical attention first," I say firmly. "That shoulder—"
"Can wait." But he leans on me heavily. "They need to see I'm in control. That I'm still fit to lead."
"Alex—"
"She's right." Elder Margaret appears in the doorway, her face grave. "The pack needs to see their Alpha. But Alpha Stone... we need to talk. About what just happened."
Through the bond, I feel his dread. They're going to use this. Going to claim the bond is affecting him, making him dangerous.
And the worst part? They're not entirely wrong.