Chapter 11 Fractured
Draven froze, chest heaving, staring down at his brother in shock as blood soaked through his fingers.
Rylan’s voice was shaking now, raw and broken.
“He was our father,” he said hoarsely. “And you destroyed him. You destroyed her. And you still dare to call yourself Alpha?”
For one suspended breath, no one moved.
Rylan’s claws were buried in Draven’s chest, shallow but deadly close, blood slick and hot between his fingers. He could feel the violent thunder of Draven’s heart against his palm, could feel how easy it would be to push just a fraction deeper.
Varkai snarled inside Draven, feral and incandescent with rage.
Iman howled back as his grief sharpened into something merciless.
"Kill him," he urged, voice raw. "End it. End what he became."
Rylan’s arm shook.
Draven stared at him, disbelief cutting through the fury for the first time. It wasn't fear but shock. As though it had never occurred to him that Rylan would dare. That anyone would.
Blood dripped to the floor.
“You won’t,” Draven rasped. His voice was fractured now, stripped of alpha certainty. “You don’t have it in you.”
Rylan’s teeth clenched.
For a heartbeat, that was true.
"Of course, I don't. I'm not you." Rylan hissed through gritted teeth. There and then footsteps thundered down the hall.
The door burst open with a violent crack, splintering against the wall as half a dozen warriors skidded to a halt, weapons half-drawn, eyes blown wide at the sight before them.
Their Alpha bleeding.
Their Beta with claws at his heart.
The room reeked of blood, dominance, and something far worse.
“Stand down!” one of them shouted, voice cracking.
Rylan’s eyes flicked up, silver-blue and blazing.
“Get out,” he snarled.
The command wasn’t alpha-backed, but it didn’t need to be. The sheer force of it sent two of them stumbling back a step as their wolves recoiled anyway, instincts screaming danger even without the weight of alpha power.
Draven’s eyes flicked toward the door, and his blood ran cold. Shock, shame, and an unyielding fury twisted together like barbed wire. They were seeing their alpha overpowered by his own beta.
“You…” Draven hissed, jaw flexing, fangs scraping against the roof of his mouth. Rage flared so hot it burned through his veins. “Get out! All of you!”
The pack froze. Eyes wide. A few dared to step forward.
“Alpha,” one whispered, voice shaking. “We—we didn’t know…”
Draven’s claws extended involuntarily, nails scraping stone. “You were banned from reaching this wing of the pack!” His voice cracked like thunder, echoing through the hall. “Get lost!"
They bolted, scattering like prey before a storm, leaving only the two of them in the wreckage of the hall.
Draven’s chest heaved as he slowly pulled back, letting Rylan step away just enough to stand on his own. The room smelled of blood and sweat, copper thick in the air, mingling with the lingering tension of two alpha wolves who had just bared themselves fully to one another.
Rylan’s silver-blue eyes met Draven’s molten red, steady despite the bruises streaking his face. Iman’s low growl vibrated beneath his skin, muscles coiled and twitching.
“Now is not the time for pride,” Rylan said, voice rough, hoarse with effort but unyielding. “You’re still bleeding, half-shifted, and you’re standing here thinking about dominance. There’s more at stake than ego.”
Draven’s hands flexed, fingers twitching as his claws retracted. Varkai rumbled, fur rising along his spine, but the half-shifted wolf stepped back under Draven’s control. Slowly, Draven flexed his hands, blood dripping from split nails healing under his command, flesh knitting together like molten metal smoothing itself.
“Hmm,” Draven murmured, wiping the blood from his palms. The gesture was almost casual, but his molten red eyes never left Rylan’s. “And what exactly would you have me do, Beta?”
“Find her,” Rylan said sharply, stepping closer again, voice dropping into a growl that mirrored Iman’s. “Elara. Now. We have hours, maybe less. The Lycan King will return with the warriors he promised. If she’s not here…” His words cut off, but the implication hung heavy, tangible.
Draven’s jaw flexed, a muscle twitching under his skin. He turned slightly, fists clenching, Varkai’s low snarl vibrating in his chest. “And if he goes back on his word?” Draven asked, voice low, almost thoughtful. “If Ronan returns with his pack and decides that I—” His words caught in his throat as he considered the implications.
Rylan’s hand clenched into a fist, nails extending slightly, silver-blue eyes narrowing. “Then we’ll deal with that when the time comes. But for now, our priority is her. We bring her back. Alive. Whole. And then we handle everything else.”
Draven’s molten-red gaze flicked toward the shattered windows and the blood-streaked floor. Slowly, he nodded, a reluctant acknowledgment rather than agreement. “Hmm,” he repeated, almost to himself. “Fine. We search. Every inch of Northwood. Every shadow. Every whisper.”
Rylan’s wolf, Iman, shifted slightly beneath his skin, fur rippling, silver-blue eyes flicking toward Draven’s Varkai. The two alpha wolves had stilled, but the tension remained, a taut wire ready to snap.
Draven’s hands tightened into fists, nails flexing again, almost itching for action. “You lead,” he said finally, voice low and dangerous. “Show me where to start.”
Rylan’s lips pressed into a thin line, his hand resting on the hilt of the dagger he always carried. “East ridge first. Scouts to the forest edge. If she’s there, we’ll know. If not…” His voice faltered slightly, eyes darkening. “…we pray she left a trail.”
Draven’s molten-red eyes glinted. “Pray?” he echoed, almost mockingly. “You sound human, Rylan.”
Rylan smirked briefly, though the blood on his face and the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. “I’m wolf enough for both of us,” he said. “But we don’t have time to argue. She’s out there bleeding or scared, and you—” He jabbed a finger toward Draven. “—can’t let your pride blind you. Not now.”
For a heartbeat, Draven said nothing. Then he tilted his head, Varkai rumbling deep, claws flexing. “Fine,” he said finally, voice low and measured. “We find her. But mark my words, brother… if anyone stands between me and her—” His words trailed, but the weight of them filled the hall.
Iman growled low in Rylan’s mind. “Let’s move.”