THE WRATH OF AN ALPHA

The air crackled with something primal.

Cassian stood over me, his body rigid, his red eyes burning with something I had never seen before.

Something more than just rage.

Something unstoppable.

The remaining assassins felt it too.

I saw it in their faces—the flicker of hesitation, the widening of their eyes as Cassian’s power surged through the clearing, pressing against them like an invisible storm.

And then.

The shadows moved.

Not just the ones cast by the trees.

Not just the shifting darkness of the night.

But the ones around Cassian himself.

They curled around him, alive, reacting to the fury boiling beneath his skin.

One of the assassins stepped back, his fingers trembling on the hilt of his weapon. “What the hell.”

Cassian moved before he could finish.

Faster than thought.

Faster than anyone should be able to move.

His dagger was a blur of silver and red, slicing through the assassin’s throat in a single, effortless motion.

The man’s body hit the ground before the others could react.

The second assassin stumbled, trying to run.

Cassian caught him mid-step, his fingers wrapping around the man’s skull like a vice.

A sickening crack echoed through the clearing.

The assassin collapsed, lifeless.

The last two froze.

One of them turned to flee, sheer terror on his face.

Cassian’s snarl was low, lethal. “Coward.”

And then.

The fleeing assassin’s legs stopped moving.

His body jerked, stiffening as if something had wrapped around him, something invisible and merciless.

His own shadow was gripping him.

Holding him still.

I gasped, my vision swimming from the blood loss, but I knew what I was seeing.

Cassian had him.

The assassin screamed, struggling against nothing, his body twitching violently.

Cassian lifted a single hand, his fingers curling into a fist.

And the assassin’s own shadow crushed him.

A strangled cry.

Then silence.

Only one assassin was left now.

He fell to his knees, panting, his sword forgotten on the ground.

Cassian stalked toward him, his movements slow, controlled, like a predator toying with his prey.

His power was still surging, the shadows pulsing with him, as if waiting for his command.

I forced my body to move, pushing through the pain. “Cassian.”

He didn’t hear me.

Didn’t see me.

His entire being was focused on the last assassin, his lips curling in something almost inhuman.

“P-please,” the assassin stammered, his voice shaking. “I—I was just following orders.”

Cassian let out a low chuckle.

It was the most terrifying sound I had ever heard.

“You should have chosen different orders.”

His shadows rose like smoke, twisting toward the man—

“Cassian, STOP!”

My voice ripped through the air, sharp and desperate.

For a moment, he didn’t move.

Then.

His head snapped toward me.

His red eyes met mine, and I felt it.

The war inside him.

The power still clawing at him, still whispering for him to finish it, to let go, to destroy everything.

But I was there now, pressing against his mind, pushing through the bond.

Come back to me.

Cassian staggered, his grip on the assassin loosening, the shadows faltering.

I saw the exact moment his rage cracked, when the storm inside him broke just enough for reason to slip in.

He blinked.

Then he let go.

The assassin collapsed, gasping, scrambling backward like a man who had just seen death itself.

Cassian turned fully to me now, his chest rising and falling in uneven bursts.

I swallowed hard, still clutching my side, blood soaking my fingers. “It’s over.”

His jaw ticked, his entire body trembling with restraint.

His hands curled into fists, his breath ragged, his eyes still filled with something wild.

I took a shaky step forward. “Cassian.”

He closed the distance in an instant.

One second he was yards away.

The next, his hands were on me, gripping my face, tilting my chin up so he could see me.

His red eyes searched mine, his fingers trembling against my skin.

“You’re hurt,” he breathed, his voice wrecked.

I let out a weak laugh, but it sounded wrong, too shaky. “You think I don’t know that?”

Cassian exhaled sharply, his forehead pressing against mine, his grip still tight, like he was trying to ground himself.

Like I was the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.

My body swayed, the pain finally catching up to me.

Cassian cursed, his arms wrapping around me fully, lifting me against his chest as if I weighed nothing.

“Stay with me,” he ordered, his voice low but urgent.

My vision blurred. “I’m—trying.”

His grip on me tightened, his power still simmering beneath the surface, dangerous and uncontrolled.

But I wasn’t afraid of him.

I was afraid of what he had almost become.

Of what he still could become if I wasn’t there to pull him back.

Cassian started moving, carrying me away from the clearing, away from the bodies, away from what he had done.

The last assassin didn’t try to stop him.

Didn’t try to fight.

He just watched, eyes wide with horror.

Because he knew.

They all would.

The Council had sent hunters.

They had sent killers.

But they hadn’t sent anyone strong enough to handle Cassian.

Now, they would be afraid of him.

They would be afraid of us.

Maybe they should be.