Chapter 3 — Meeting the Alpha

Darian

The wind carried the faint, frantic rhythm of footsteps through the forest, tugging at Darian Blackthorn’s instincts. He stood motionless, cloaked in the shadows of a weathered oak, his sharp blue eyes scanning the undergrowth with the precision born of years of survival. Hours of tracking had brought him here—to the girl and the Council’s enforcers. The mingled scents of blood and fear laced the crisp air, winding around him like a noose.

He hadn’t planned to intervene. He had left behind those kinds of choices—the kind that came with consequences, the kind that bled people dry. But then he saw it. The Ironfang Sigil, gleaming faintly at the girl’s side as she fled past his hidden perch earlier. It had been a flash, no more than a heartbeat, but it stopped him cold. The Sigil wasn’t just a relic; it was a ghost—a fragment of a legacy thought long dead. What the council had destroyed decades ago should have stayed buried. And yet here it was, tied to a girl barely old enough to understand the weight of what she carried.

His jaw tightened as he exhaled slowly, the cool air biting his lungs. He didn’t want to step in. The memories clawed at him, unrelenting—faces he couldn’t save, the screams of a pack torn apart by his failure. Those days were over, and the scars they left were too deep to forget. But this girl wouldn’t survive the night without help. And the Sigil? It changed everything. Like it or not, he couldn’t ignore this. Not again.

A faint crack of a branch brought him back into focus. The girl stumbled into view, her movements erratic, her breaths sharp and desperate. She moved like prey—small, lean, and trembling—but there was something beneath the terror in her stride, a thread of something raw and untamed just beginning to stir. Chestnut hair hung wild around her freckled face, and her amber eyes, wide with exhaustion and fear, burned faintly in the moonlight. He knew that look. She had no idea what she was, but something inside her was waking.

The shouts of her pursuers cut through the night, shattering the fragile quiet. Darian exhaled again, his fists clenching at his sides as he stepped forward, deliberately emerging from the shadows.

The girl froze. Her boots skidded over frost-slick leaves, and her wide amber eyes locked onto him. Her hand darted toward her pocket, clutching at the Sigil. He saw the hesitation, the flicker of defiance battling exhaustion. She was cornered, and she knew it.

“Stay back!” she gasped, her voice raw but edged with a spark of determination.

Darian’s gaze flicked briefly to her trembling hands before settling back on her face. “If I were your enemy,” he growled, low and rough, “you’d already be dead.”

Her fear narrowed into suspicion. “Who are you?”

“Someone who doesn’t have time for introductions,” he snapped. The sounds of pursuit were closing in, and the weight of urgency pressed against him like a vice. “Move, or you’ll die here.”

She wavered, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. He could see the war playing out in her head—trust versus survival, instinct versus doubt. Without waiting for her answer, Darian stepped closer and grabbed her arm. Her flinch was immediate, but when she didn’t pull away, he tugged her into the shadows of the trees. Her steps were uneven, faltering, but she followed.

The enforcers were louder now, their laughter and taunts slicing through the forest like claws. Darian moved quickly, weaving through the gnarled trees with a predator’s ease. His senses stretched outward, catching every shift in the wind, every misplaced step of the hunters behind them. He could smell the metallic tang of blood in the air, could feel the tension thickening around them like a storm.

The girl stumbled again, falling to her knees. Her gasps for air were shallow and ragged. Darian spun, his expression hardening as he crouched beside her.

“Can you keep up, or do I have to carry you?” he asked, his voice sharp.

Her glare was fierce despite her exhaustion. “I can… keep up,” she hissed, shaking as she forced herself to stand.

“Good.” He didn’t bother softening his tone. There wasn’t time for coddling. The icy wind whipped at their faces as they pressed on, the forest around them growing darker, more oppressive. But the Sigil gnawed at his thoughts, its presence a question he couldn’t shake. Why now? Why her?

The mournful howl of a wolf echoed through the air, distant but unmistakable. Darian’s chest tightened. They weren’t alone.

They broke into a clearing, moonlight spilling down like liquid silver onto a frost-covered expanse. Darian halted, his sharp eyes scanning the space. The skeletal limbs of the trees loomed at the edges, creaking faintly in the wind. It was too quiet.

The girl bent forward, clutching her knees as she gasped for air. “What… what’s chasing us?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Darian’s gaze didn’t waver from the forest’s edge. “Keep your voice down,” he ordered. “And don’t stop moving unless you want to find out.”

It was too late. The shadows shifted, and the first enforcer stepped into the clearing. He was tall and broad, his features obscured by the hood of a dark cloak. Cold, predatory eyes glinted as a smirk twisted his lips. More cloaked figures emerged behind him, forming a loose ring around them.

“There you are,” the lead enforcer drawled, his voice smooth and mocking. “The Council will be very pleased to see you, little heir.”

Darian moved without thought, stepping in front of the girl and shielding her with his body. His hand dropped to the worn hilt of his dagger—a blade that had seen more blood than he cared to remember. “She’s not going anywhere with you.”

The enforcer’s smirk deepened. “And who are you to decide that, Blackthorn? A broken alpha playing knight for a stray pup? How pitiful.”

Darian’s jaw tightened, the jab hitting harder than he’d admit. But he didn’t flinch. “You’re not leaving this clearing alive.”

The enforcer’s expression turned cold. “Kill him. Bring the girl.”

They surged forward, a blur of movement and steel. Darian met them head-on, his dagger flashing like a shard of moonlight. He moved with the precision of a predator, every strike deliberate and efficient, every movement honed by years of battle. He felt the girl at his back, clutching the Sigil as its faint glow grew brighter.

An enforcer slipped past his guard, lunging for her. She screamed, stumbling back as claws raked the air near her face. Darian snarled, pivoting on instinct. His blade sliced cleanly through the attacker’s throat, and they crumpled to the ground in a lifeless heap.

“Stay behind me,” Darian barked, his voice harsh but steady.

The remaining enforcers faltered, their confidence wavering. A howl ripped through the air, closer this time, and the atmosphere seemed to shift, heavy and electric. Darian’s instincts prickled. Something was coming.

The black wolf stepped into the clearing.

It was massive, its fur as black as midnight and its glowing amber eyes fixed unerringly on the girl. Its presence radiated power, primal and ancient. The air itself seemed to vibrate, the sheer force of it pressing against Darian’s chest like a physical weight. He couldn’t breathe. Could barely think. This wasn’t an ordinary werewolf. It was something older. Something legendary.

The enforcers froze, their fear palpable. Even Darian, who had seen more than his share of nightmares, felt a shiver crawl down his spine. The wolf’s gaze didn’t waver. It was locked on the girl.

For a moment, the world held its breath.

“Go,” Darian said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Run.”

She didn’t move. Her wide amber eyes were fixed on the wolf, her expression unreadable. Darian growled, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the forest’s edge. The wolf snarled, the sound reverberating through the air, but it didn’t follow.

They disappeared into the trees, the sounds of pursuit fading behind them. Darian didn’t stop until the girl collapsed, her legs giving out beneath her. He caught her before she hit the ground, lowering her gently onto the moss-covered forest floor.

“What… what was that?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Darian didn’t answer immediately. His gaze dropped to the Sigil in her hand, its glow casting faint shadows over her freckled skin. Finally, he exhaled, his voice grim.

“That,” he said, “was your past catching up to you.”

Her brow furrowed, confusion flickering across her face. Darian stood and extended a hand, his tone softening slightly. “Come on. There’s a place nearby where we can hide for the night. We’ll talk then.”

She hesitated, but when she took his hand, her grip was firm. As they moved deeper into the forest, Darian’s thoughts churned. Whatever destiny this girl carried, it was already in motion. And, like it or not, so was he.