Chapter 151
Chapter 151
Phina’s POV
I felt my chest tighten the moment I saw him—Asher, falling hard to the ground, a jagged line of pain marking his side. Rage and fear collided in my chest like a storm, each beat of my heart hammering through my ears. My hands clenched, trembling with the force I was barely holding back. Jason grinned, his eyes sharp and cruel, thinking he had won.
“Looks like your little alpha isn’t so invincible after all,” he sneered, stepping closer. I could feel my blood boil, my vision narrowing around him, the rest of the battlefield fading into noise and dust.
Memories of past pain stabbed through me—the cold sting of his rejection, the humiliation, the confusion. And now, seeing him hurt my pack, my power refused to stay contained. I could feel energy crackling under my skin, buzzing in my fingertips, ready to explode.
Before I even realized what I was doing, my telekinetic force surged. Jason jerked violently as I flung him into a nearby branch. The sound of splintering wood cracked across the battlefield, and the air itself seemed to shiver with the impact. Soldiers and invaders froze, eyes wide, jaws slack, unsure what had just happened.
A gust of wind swept over me, carrying the metallic scent of blood mixed with dust and sweat. My hair whipped around my face, my pulse roaring, every nerve screaming with raw adrenaline. I could feel the energy around me, alive and chaotic, but somehow controlled by my anger and loyalty.
“Stay down,” I muttered under my breath, my voice shaking but determined. Jason dangled awkwardly from the branch, glaring at me with a mix of shock and fury.
I took a deep breath, letting the fury settle into sharp focus, letting it guide me rather than consume me. Then, I glanced around. The battlefield had fallen silent, soldiers pausing mid-fight, enemies hesitating, sensing the surge of power I had unleashed.
My legs felt rooted to the ground as if the energy beneath me connected to the earth itself, stabilizing me even as it hummed beneath my skin. My eyes finally left Jason, turning toward Asher, my heart tightening at the sight of him slumped but alive.
Every step I took toward him carried the weight of my anger, my fear, and my determination. The energy that had flung Jason now pulsed with a gentler, urgent purpose—bringing me to the one who needed me most. I wouldn’t let him stay down. Not while I was here.
Sadness weighed on me as I sank to my knees beside Asher, the weight of the battlefield pressing around us, and my hands trembled as I reached for his side. The jagged wound burned under my fingers, and I flinched, feeling the pain like it was my own. His breath came in shallow gasps, ragged and sharp against the cold evening air.
“Phina…” he murmured, his voice strained, a hint of panic in it. I shook my head, pressing my hands more firmly against him. “Shh, I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay. Just stay with me.”
The moment I spoke, something inside me shifted, a warmth building in my palms that spread into him. I could feel it moving through his muscles, mending tissue, knitting together torn flesh. Light shimmered faintly around my hands, soft at first, then stronger as my energy radiated outward. His eyes fluttered open, meeting mine with a mixture of relief and disbelief.
“You… you’re really here,” he whispered. My heart ached at the sight of him so vulnerable, yet trusting me completely. “Always,” I said softly, squeezing his hand, letting my power flow with my words.
The scent of blood began to fade, replaced by the subtle hum of energy vibrating through my body. Each pulse seemed to steady his breathing, filling him with strength as mine surged to match it. The cold wind brushed my skin, but the warmth from my hands wrapped us both in a strange, comforting cocoon.
I felt tears prick my eyes—not just for the relief, but for the fragility of life I had seen today. My anger at Jason, at the chaos, simmered beneath it all, a protective fire mingling with care and love.
Asher’s fingers twitched beneath mine as he regained some strength, his body no longer trembling with pain.
“Feeling better?” I asked quietly, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. He gave a small nod, wincing slightly, but his eyes were sharper now, focused, grounded.
“Thanks… Phina. You saved me. Guess… I ended up winning the competition…” he laughed a bit as he slowly sat up.
“What competition…?” I wondered as I was completely blank.
“The one of who's more grateful…” he laughed a bit more and I had no option but to join in. He was really bold to bring that up in the heat of a battle. “I'll let you have it this time around…”
I let out a slow breath, grounding myself as the light around us softened and steadied. I could feel the battlefield still moving around us, but my attention lingered on him, on the moment, on the bond that had just strengthened through the chaos.
Then, my gaze drifted across the field, landing on the other wounded soldiers, and a new realization struck me: my power could protect them too, and send a clear message to anyone who dared threaten my pack.
I rose to my feet, the wind tugging at my hair, and let my hands hover over the wounded soldiers around me. Energy pulsed from my palms, warm and steady, weaving through broken limbs and battered bodies. One by one, their groans of pain faded into sharp breaths of shock as injuries closed and strength returned.
“Watch closely,” I murmured, almost to myself, feeling the surge of power feed back into me.
The men who moments ago had seemed helpless now stirred, sitting up, stretching, shaking off the haze of pain. Their eyes widened in disbelief, and even my own pack stared, half in awe, half in wary fear at the scale of what they were witnessing. Faces pale, claws gripping weapons tighter, they stepped back instinctively, the battlefield air thick with tension and apprehension.
As I focused, the faint hum of energy radiating from my hands seemed to echo in their ears, a silent warning that this fight had shifted. I let my gaze sweep across the field, taking in both friend and foe.
The scent of blood lingered, but it was overlaid with the warmth of life returning, mingling with dust and smoke. The air itself felt charged, the hairs on my arms standing as though the wind carried more than just a chill.
“Are you going to leave while you can,” I called, voice firm and steady, cutting through the clamor of the battlefield, “or will you let us make you leave?” Every word carried weight, a mixture of command and warning that left no room for misunderstanding.