CHAPTER 2

Alpha’s Hunt

Darius's POV

Power is taken, not given. It has been fought for, bled for, and, in my case, passed down with still-fresh bloodstains.

Power is both my strength and my weakness as Alpha of the Midnight Pack, the biggest and most feared pack in the northern territories. I grew up in its shadow, was shaped by its expectations, and was born into it. Magnus Blackthorne, my father, was a legendary tyrant who ruled with brutality and terror. His allies never trusted him, and his adversaries feared him.

The pack looked to me, who was barely of age, to fill the vacuum left by his death in battle. More than that, I consolidated our power, put down uprisings, and made the Midnight Pack a formidable force that no one dared oppose.

They now refer to me as ruthless, a beast with iron claws that reigns. Perhaps I am. Beneath that, though, I am a man who bears the consequences of every choice I make, every life I take, and every life I rescue.

I don't do anything by myself. Since we were boys, Lucien, my beta, has been by my side. He serves as both my conscience and my second-in-command. He reminds me of the man I I could’ve been if I hadn’t been shaped by war and survival. When I am instinctive, Lucien is methodical, and when I am fierce, he is serene. But even he doesn’t know the full extent of the storm I face now.

Our kind's ruling body, the Council, is made up of old wolves who say they are preserving the balance of power among packs. They use their influence as a blade, eliminating any Alpha who deviates too much from their authority. And they're looking at me right now.

“Alpha Blackthorne,” Elder Alistair Vane had said at our last meeting. His voice was deep and authoritative, with the authority that only centuries of existence could bestow. "The Midnight Pack is powerful, but unbridled power leads to chaos. The rogue activity near your borders is troubling. Act decisively.”

Alistair Vane, a wolf whose cunning stare could strip you bare, was the Elders' most powerful voice. He wanted to test me to see if I would submit to the Council's will or break trying to fight it, not merely deal with the rogues.

They demanded order, their version of it. And now, they demanded the capture of a rogue who had slipped into my territory—rumored to be no ordinary wolf but one with powers that defied explanation.

I had no room for failure. To fail meant losing the respect of the Council, which could lead to losing the support of allied packs. And losing that? It would mean war.

The forest, a maze of secrets and shadows, stretched on forever in front of us. The earthy smell of damp soil and pine filled the chilly air. My wolf surged with restless energy, always simmering beneath the surface.

Lucien walked next to me, looking at the trees with keen eyes. He exuded a calm assurance that contrasted with my unrelenting passion.

The scouts confirmed her trail near the river,” Lucien said, breaking the silence. He spoke in a measured tone, but I caught a hint of worry. “She’s clever, Darius. Most rogues would’ve been caught by now.”

"Clever won't save her," I stated in a steady, low voice.

Lucien looked at me curiously. “You think she’s the one the Council’s so interested in?”

"Alistair Vane doesn't send directives for ordinary rogues." I remarked somberly. “She is special—or perilous. Perhaps both.”

For a moment, the forest was alive with the distant call of an owl and the soft rustle of leaves as we strolled in stillness. My hunters were dispersed, moving as soundlessly as shadows.

“Do you ever wonder why the Council cares so much about one rogue?” Lucien asked abruptly.

I gave him a stern glance. "We have no right to question them."

Despite raising an eyebrow, Lucien remained silent. He didn't have to. His skepticism was similar to mine.

Although the Council professed to keep the packs in balance, its intentions were frequently unclear. Anyone who opposed their idea of order was slain by them as they wielded their power like a blade.

They had now turned their attention to me.

The moon was high when we found her scent.

It was faint, nearly undetectable, yet distinct—a blend of untamed soil and something more abrasive like ice slicing at a fire's edges.

“She’s close,” I said, my wolf growling low in my chest.

With a stiff posture, Lucien nodded. "I'll notify the others."

I extended a hand. "No. We take care of this ourselves.

Lucien scowled without protesting.

On the forest floor, we walked swiftly and silently. With the trees becoming denser and their branches creating a canopy that blotted out the moonlight, the trail took us more into the forest.

The typical sounds of nighttime activity were oddly absent as if the forest were holding its breath.

The excitement of the hunt pumped through my veins, making my pulse speed.

Then I caught sight of her.

Her shape was hardly discernible against the trees' dark background as she moved like a shadow. She moved with precision and fluidity, like a predator in her element, and her long dark hair caught the dim light.

With all of my instincts screaming to take her down, my wolf charged forward.

But I remained silent, staring at her.

"Stop!" I ordered, my voice like a dagger slicing through the silence.

Her head turned slightly as though she had heard me, and she froze for a moment. Then she suddenly took off running.

““Lucien, flank her!” I yelled and ran after her.

It was a vicious chase.

She moved faster than any rogue I had ever seen. Her motions were precise and erratic as she dashed between trees.

But I was faster.

As I got closer, the forest became less distinct, with my wolf instincts directing my every move.

She looked back, her eyes wide with terror and resolve, and I saw a glimpse of her face.

And then I lunged.

She struggled to free herself as her body twisted beneath mine as we struck the ground hard.

Her actions were driven by desperation, and she was stronger than she appeared.

"Let go of me!" Her voice was strong and angry as she growled.

I tightened my grip, my wolf growling low in my chest. “Stop fighting. You’re only making this worse for yourself.”

She gazed up at me, her eyes burning with fury. "I would rather die than be imprisoned by you."

Her words took me by surprise for a second.

Not only was her voice uncompromising, but it was also shattered and laced with a pain that went beyond any wound.

"Who are you?" With a quieter but no less authoritative voice, I demanded.

Her eyes darted to the shadows surrounding us, but she didn't respond.

I leaned closer and hissed, "Answer me."

"You don't understand," she said in a tremulous tone.

"Understand what?"

She looked up at me, and I noticed terror in her eyes for the first time.

Her voice was hardly heard as she continued, "They're watching."

My senses sharpened, and I scowled.

"Who is watching?" I insisted.

A low, guttural growl that chilled my spine reverberated through the trees before she could respond.

Lucien came up next to me, looking serious. "We have company."

The rogue was stiff beneath me as I stared down at her.

I said in a forceful, low voice, "Stay close."

Her eyes darted to the shadows, but she didn't argue.

It wasn't friendly, whatever it was.

And it seemed to me that this hunt was far from over.