Tyler.
Arya's heartbeat pulsed slowly in the darkness, guiding me as I raced through the labyrinthine corridors of the mansion. Was she dying?
Finally, I reached the top floor, where her heartbeat was clearer. But as I approached the door to the room where her heartbeat was stronger, I was met with a barrier—a sleek, electronically locked door that stood between me and the woman I loved.
Fury boiled within me, my wolfish instincts overwhelmed with anger at the fact that Ethan had kept her locked up like this. With a snarl of frustration, I reared back on my hind legs, my claws scraping against the smooth surface of the door as I unleashed a barrage of blows, each strike fueled by the burning need to reach her.
The door groaned under the force of my assault, the electronic lock sparking and sputtering as it struggled to hold me back. But I was relentless, my determination unyielding as I continued to batter against the barrier between us.
Finally, with a resounding crash, the door gave way, the metal frame buckling under the force of my weight. I moved forward, heedless of the shards of splintered wood and twisted metal that littered the floor, my sole focus on finding her.
Oh, Arya.
Inside the room, the air was heavy with the scent of her—of Arya. It filled my senses, drowning out everything else as I took in the sight before me.
My heart broke as I noticed her lithe form curled up on the floor.
She lay there, small and vulnerable against the wall, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.
Guilt washed over me like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf me. This was my fault—all of it. If I hadn't been so blind, if I had acted on time she wouldn't have suffered so much. But there was no time for regrets, no time to dwell on what-ifs. Right now, all that mattered was getting her out of here, getting her to safety.
As I reached her, I willed myself to transform and felt the shift begin—a slow, agonizing transformation from wolf to man. It was a painful process, every muscle and bone protesting as I changed back to my human form.
With trembling hands, I reached out and I gathered her into my arms. She was so light, so fragile against the strength of my embrace, and yet in that moment, she felt like the most precious thing in the world as I cradled her against my chest.
I stood there, with Arya held tightly against me. Without hesitation, I wrapped the sheet from the bed around my waist, a makeshift covering to preserve my modesty. Then I carried her from the room.
Stepping into the grand foyer, I was greeted by the expectant faces of my men, their expressions a mix of concern and determination. They had been waiting for news, their faces grim at the fact that they were not successful at finding Arya.
"She's alive," I said. "But we need to move quickly. She needs immediate medical attention."
My men nodded in understanding, their eyes flashing with determination as they prepared to follow my orders. They were loyal to a fault, ready to lay down their lives for my cause.
Together, we made our way through the dimly lit corridors of the mansion, our footsteps echoing against the cold stone floors. Outside, the night air was thick with tension, the remnants of the fight still evident in the compound.
As we reached the gates, I felt a knot form in the pit of my stomach. The Crest pack Elders- I recognized them- stood before us, their faces etched with grim determination. Their eyes, a mix of respect and apprehension, locked onto me, weighing me down with an unspoken burden.
"Tyler Locke," one of them said. "Welcome back. By conquering and killing our Alpha, you have inherited the responsibility of being the Alpha of Crest pack. The pack is yours by right."
My heart sank at his words. It had been mine by birth. I had hoped to slip away unnoticed, to leave behind the chaos and bloodshed. But fate had other plans, it seemed. Whoever killed the alpha of a pack automatically became the new alpha. Being the Alpha of Crest pack was a thing of the past to me. Now, it was a burden, a responsibility I wasn't prepared for.
Besides, after the fight I just endured to get Arya back, the last thing I needed was another delay to get her to safety.
"It’s Lockhart now and I want no part in being the Alpha of Crest pack." I snapped impatiently. The words spilled from my lips like venom, laced with frustration and defiance. "You can give it to someone else. I have more important things to do."
The Elder regarded me with a mix of disappointment and understanding, as if he had anticipated my resistance. But there was a hint of urgency in his gaze, a plea that tugged at my conscience. My gaze flickered to Arya cradled in my arms. She had been through enough, witnessed enough of the chaos that surrounded my life. I didn't want to waste any more time in getting her the proper care and treatment she needed.
But the elder's expression remained steadfast, unmoved by my words. He stepped forward. "Tyler," he began, "Ethan was a tyrant. Under his rule, our pack suffered. We lived in fear, shackled by his fearful rule. But with you as our Alpha, we have hope. Hope for a better future, for a pack free from tyranny."
"But the pack was alright when my brother ruled," I argued. "You can do it again. Pick someone else to be your Alpha. Leave me out of it."
The elder's gaze softened, his eyes betraying a hint of desperation. "You don't understand, Tyler," he pleaded. "Challenging Ethan meant death. He was too powerful, too ruthless. We were powerless to stop him."
Arya stirred in my arms, her brow furrowing in pain. I couldn't afford to waste any more time arguing with the Elders. Every second we spent here was another second closer to danger, another moment where Arya's life hung in the balance.
Reluctantly, I nodded, a heavy sigh escaping my lips. "Fine," I muttered. "I'll do it. But I won't be able to attend to my duties for now. Bury your dead. I'll be back soon."
The Elder nodded, a sense of relief washing over his features. "Thank you, Tyler," he said earnestly. "You won't regret this, I promise."
I offered him a curt nod in return, my mind already racing with plans and strategies. There was much work to be done, but for now, I focused on the task at hand—getting Arya home and healthy.
The elders parted before us, their solemn expressions a stark contrast to the bustling energy of the pack. Their eyes followed us as we made our way through the heart of the Crest pack to Rogue pack.