Chapter 167
Third Person POV
Lysandra’s paws tore through the forest floor, shredding bark and leaves in her wake. With each powerful bound, her purple fur enrget th moonlight, sending eerie reflections dancing through the trees. Her mind churned with a single purpose that burned like said through her
veins.
Kill him. End this. Save Alaric.
She quickened her pace, pushing her muscles to their limit as the sounds of battle grew louder. Growls, yelps, and the unmistakable wet sounds of teeth tearing flesh echoed through the night. The scent of blood hung heavy in the air, metallic and sharp.
Her mind reached out through the pack bond, searching for any familiar consciousness. When she touched the frantic mind of a Gamma officer, she pressed her thoughts into his.
I’m coming.
The response came immediately, filled with panic and fear. Lady Lysandra, please go back! We can’t guarantee your safety. This isn’t just a fight-
She severed the connection abruptly. No excuses. No delays.
The wet earth beneath her paws grew slick with blood as she approached the battle’s edge. Twisted bodies of fallen wolves lay scattered across the clearing, some still in mid–shift between human and wolf form–frozen forever in that grotesque transition.
Lysandra slowed, circling the perimeter, her ears flattened against her skull, The enormity of what was happening hit her with crushing force. This wasn’t just a territorial dispute–this was annihilation.
If I truly did cause this by breaking our bond, maybe I’m the only one who can end it.
The thought made her stumble, but fury quickly replaced her doubt. She’d end this, not with diplomacy but with force. Her claws dug into the earth as she steadied herself.
If Tristan dies tonight, Orion and Lyra will never know their father. But if Alaric dies, I lose my only brother. I have to kill Tristan. He doesn’t deserve to be their father.
She crested a small ridge, and the full battlefield spread before her. Dozens of wolves locked in combat, blood spraying into the night air with each savage bite and slash. The scent of death filled her nostrils, making her hackles rise. Somewhere in that chaos was her brother–and the man who’d started it all.
Her eyes tracked to the manor’s direction. With horror, she realized the fighting was moving steadily toward Ravencroft grounds. Toward her children.
I need to find you, Tristan. This ends tonight.
Without further hesitation, Lysandra launched herself into the fray. The first wolves to notice her froze mid–fight, their eyes widening at the sight of her purple form. For a moment, the battle around her paused as wolves from both sides stared in disbelief.
“Alpha?” One of the wolves whispered, backing/away instinctively.
“She’s a female Alpha?” Another gasped.
The Moonshade Pack wolves recognized her immediately. One of her brother’s Deltas recovered first, scrambling to his feet despite his bloody
wounds.
“Lady Lysandra?” His eyes bulged with shock. “How-
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Chapter 167
She didn’t have time to explain. Two wolves rushed her, clearly deciding she was a threat regardless of identity Lynndr
speed, catching the first wolf with her jaws and hurling him through the air. He crashed against a free trunk with a nekome zak wolf faltered, suddenly unsure, but too late–Lysandra’s claws raked across his flank, opening deep gashes from shoulder its hairst
He fell, whimpering, unable to stand.
The wolves nearby backed away, creating a circle of space around her. She could smell their fear–sharp and acrid
Just like your master, your warriors are cowards too, Alpha Tristan.
She pushed forward, every sense alert, searching for any sign of her brother. Every wolf that challenged her paid in blood. One after another they fell before her, paralyzed with shock at her strength. She felt no remorse as she tore through flesh, broke bones, and left bodies writhing in agony behind her.
Everyone on this battlefield is my enemy. I trust no
I show no mercy.
The taste of copper filled her mouth as she ripped through another opponent’s throat. Blood splattered her purple fur, turning it nearly black
rage built with each passing moment, blood boiling in her veins. in the moonlight. Still, no sign of Alaric or his officials. Her
She paused to scent the air, when pain shot through her hind leg. Three wolves had flanked her, their teeth sinking deep into her flesh. She snarled, twisting to free herself, but they clung on, ripping and tearing.
Get off me or you’ll regret it, she projected through the mind link, her mental voice dripping venom.
One of the wolves answered, his thoughts surprisingly clear despite the battle–frenzy. These are our Alpha’s orders. Anyone who stands in his way of killing Alaric must die.
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