Chapter 163
Kane's POV
I raised my head, peering through my blood-blurred vision toward where the sound came from.
A cream-colored shadow hurtled down the hillside.
It was a she-wolf, not particularly large, her coat gleaming softly in the morning light, moving with the agility of flowing water.
Her eyes—those amber eyes—carried the recklessness unique to a newly awakened wolf spirit and an instinctive ferocity as she charged straight toward the center of the battlefield.
Blaze let out a deafening roar deep in my consciousness: "That's Dorothy! She's awakened!"
I froze in place, even forgetting the pain wracking my body. Dorothy had shown no signs of awakening since she was ten years old. Everyone thought she would never have her own wolf spirit.
And now, in this most desperate moment, her wolf had woken?
"No, no, no—" I repeated the word frantically in my mind.
She should have been safe at camp, far from this bloody slaughter.
I'd deliberately left her sleeping precisely because I didn't want her in danger.
But now...
"Dorothy!" I wanted to shout, but a wolf's throat could only produce a low growl.
She plunged into the enemy formation with no technique whatsoever, relying purely on instinct as she wove and leaped among the rogues. Her appearance disrupted their tight formation, forcing those who'd been preparing to deliver killing blows to divide their attention to deal with this unexpected variable.
The gray-brown wolf leader frowned, waving his claws to signal his subordinates to adjust their formation. But I could see the contempt in his eyes—to him, a freshly awakened she-wolf posed no threat at all, merely prey delivering itself to him.
Dorothy charged in my direction. She was fast, but her movements still carried a novice's awkwardness.
I could feel her fear, and I could feel her determination—she'd come to save me.
When she reached my side, our eyes met in midair.
In that instant, the entire world stood still.
An invisible force struck through my soul like lightning, piercing straight to its deepest core. It was a sensation I'd never experienced before—as if an invisible thread had bound me to her inextricably, as if my heart and hers beat to the same rhythm, as if I'd finally found that one existence in this world who could fit perfectly with me.
Mate Bond.
The destined partner bond.
"It's her," Blaze growled in my consciousness, his voice carrying an almost manic ecstasy. "It's her! My Mate!"
I heard Dorothy's wolf spirit—an unfamiliar yet gentle female voice—murmuring in her consciousness: "It's him, it's him."
A subtle telepathic link formed between us. I could feel her determination to fight, could feel her heartbreak seeing me gravely wounded, could feel that newly awakened, not-yet-fully-controlled power within her screaming frantically to protect me.
And she could feel me too—feel my pain, feel my shock, feel the emotions that suddenly surged up in this moment, threatening to drown me.
Damn it.
Damn fate.
Why now? Why under these circumstances?
I forced myself to snap out of that dizzying sensation.
This wasn't the time to indulge in the Mate Bond—we were surrounded by over fifty enemies, I was gravely injured, and Dorothy had just awakened with no idea how to fight. If I didn't do something, we'd both die here.
I took a deep breath, enduring the searing pain in my spine, and sent simple instructions through that newly established mental link to Dorothy: "Left flank, circle around, cover Steven."
Her wolf spirit—I heard Dorothy call her Willow in her mind—immediately responded to my call. Though Dorothy was a novice, driven by Willow's instinct, she quickly adjusted direction and charged toward Steven's position.
I seized the opportunity to raise my head and roar with all my strength: "Stone Ridge Pack already knows the situation here! Reinforcements are on their way!"
This was a complete and utter lie.
But I was betting these rogues wouldn't dare take the risk. Though they vastly outnumbered us, if a large pack's reinforcements truly arrived, they'd stand no chance.
The gray-brown wolf leader's eyes flickered. I saw his ears flatten backward, clearly weighing his options.
Through the Mate Bond, I felt Dorothy's position, felt her using that small body to block attack after attack meant for Steven. Her shoulder had been bitten, blood flowing down her cream-colored fur, but she gritted her teeth and didn't retreat.
Seeing her injured, an irrepressible fury exploded in my chest.
Blaze's power surged briefly, stimulated by the Mate Bond. Ignoring the wound on my spine, I lunged at the two nearest enemy warriors, my claws savagely tearing through their throats.
Blood sprayed. Two bodies fell to the ground.
I didn't stop. I knew our only chance was to capture the leader—once we took down that gray-brown wolf, the remaining rogues would collapse without a fight.
I transmitted my plan through the Mate Bond to Dorothy: "Feint attack, draw their attention."
She didn't hesitate.
Despite her shoulder wound, she launched a frenzied assault on the leader's left flank. Her movements were still awkward, but that newly born viciousness and her trust in me made her fearless.
The leader and his surrounding guards were forced to turn their attention toward her, creating openings in their formation.
I approached silently from the leader's blind spot—his right rear.
Then, propelled by Blaze's final burst of strength, I bit down hard on the gray-brown wolf leader's throat.
My fangs pierced his flesh, but I didn't bite through—I needed him alive, needed to use him to threaten the remaining rogues.
The leader struggled violently, his strength far exceeding my imagination. The wound on my spine tore further in this violent struggle, blood gushing like a fountain, the pain nearly causing me to lose consciousness.
But I held on with a death grip.
I used my own gravely wounded body to pin him down relentlessly, letting his claws carve wound after wound into me, letting blood stain the sand and stone beneath our feet.
The surrounding rogue warriors stopped their attacks, staring in horror as their leader was subdued.
I issued a hoarse growl—a muffled threat through my clenched jaws—warning them: any rash move, and your leader dies.
Steven and the other surviving warriors quickly rallied, forming a loose defensive formation behind me. Each was wounded, but their eyes burned with the fire of survival.
Dorothy also stumbled to my side.
Through the Mate Bond, I could feel her worry, could feel her anguish seeing me covered in blood.
"Hold on," her voice came through the mental link. "Hold on, Kane. I won't let you die."
I wanted to tell her I wouldn't die.
I wanted to tell her that as long as she lived, I had reason to keep living.
But right now, I could only use all my strength to clamp down on the leader's throat, using my gaze to warn those restless rogues—
Back off.
Or your leader dies by my fangs.