3. THORNE

Chapter 3

THORNE

I sigh.

This isn't easy.

I thought I would just go out, follow my instincts, find her, and everything will be fine.

But it's not happening that way at all, and I don't have time on my side.

I can't leave my pack without protection for long. I'll never forgive myself if something happens to them while I'm away.

Weeks have passed in relentless pursuit, my most trusted soldiers and I scouring the territories, seeking the elusive fated mate destined to alter our fate.

We've traversed the realms of countless packs, questioned every alpha, and inspected every potential candidate for the mark that signifies destiny's intervention.

Yet, disappointment lingers like a shadow. No mark, no revelation.

Nothing.

The frustration simmers beneath my alpha exterior, gnawing at the edges of my determination. Each empty-handed return is a weight on my shoulders, a reminder of the desperate need for change.

"Thank you for visiting us." Alpha Evan says, and I smile back at him.

"I'm grateful for your assistance and hospitality," I say automatically.

And then they turn away, walking back and leaving us at the outskirts of their territory.

Zane walks over to me after they leave. "We have two more packs to check, Alpha."

My fiercest warrior stands tall and proud, but his eyes can't lie. He's tired. We are all tired.

Rylan would have bitten my head off if he was here.

The heaviness in the air is palpable. Hope, once a beacon, flickers dimly. And no one dares say a word against my orders.

I exhale a weary breath and voice my frustration. "We've scoured every inch, questioned every potential mate. There's no sign of the Fated one. We'll have to return home."

Was Greta's prophecy just madness? Was I stupid to believe the words of a delusional female?

It's time to return and prepare to fight to the death.

"But Alpha… we still have one more pack to go," Zane says, and even though I see the fatigue in his eyes, I realize he's still holding onto the hope that a fated mate can save us.

Everyone has that same hope.

But I am the Alpha of this pack. Hope alone can't save us.

I smile and touch his shoulder. "We will find her, but we also have to prepare just in case," I say, and he bites his lip, nodding.

Silence descends upon us as the reality of our fruitless journey settles in. The road home stretches before us—a road marred with uncertainty.

The moon hangs high in the night sky, casting an ethereal glow on our weary group as we make our way home. The distant echoes of the forest provide a soothing backdrop, disrupted only by the rustling of leaves.

I pause, my nose catching a scent, but before I can grasp what it is, a shadowy figure suddenly emerges from the darkness, swiftly followed by a group of masked thieves, their weapons gleaming in the moonlight.

Mountain thieves.

Their arrival is abrupt, the crunch of leaves under their swift footsteps betraying their approach. The leader, a menacing figure with a bandit's mask concealing his face, steps forward, his tone laced with malice.

"Well, well, what have we here?" he sneers, giving us a predatory look. "A pack of travelers, ripe for the picking. Hand over your money, and maybe we'll let you leave with your lives."

"You've chosen the wrong prey," I warn, stepping forward.

The thieves, ignorant to the storm they've stirred, sneer and mock, unaware of the alpha they've provoked.

"Look at them! Probably lost in the woods, thinking they can stroll through our territory without consequences," one of them jeers. Another adds a sinister chuckle, "You hear that, boys? They're practically begging to be robbed!"

"Leave now while you still have the chance," I tell them.

Of course, they're deaf to my warnings.

The moon's glow provides a deceptive serenity, masking the impending chaos as the thieves encircle us.

Suddenly, the leader lunges forward, a blade gleaming in the moonlight. Time slows as instinct takes over—I deflect his strike with a swift motion, the clash of steel signaling the fight is on.

My pack engages with fierce determination, but the weariness of our long journey weighs on our limbs. The thieves, driven by desperation, fight relentlessly.

This fight is not in our favor.

The fight rages on, the moonlight casting shadows that dance with the chaos unfolding in the darkened forest. Fatigue begins to take its toll as the thieves, driven by desperation, escalate the brutality of their attacks.

Amid the clash, a particularly cunning thief seizes an opportune moment. He lunges at me with a swift, deceptive motion, catching me off guard.

His claws sink into my chest, a gruesome connection that sends shockwaves of pain through my body. The masked assailant drags his claws down with savage intent, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

Pain erupts, and a primal roar escapes my lips as blood stains the earth beneath me. I collapse on the forest floor as the relentless thief presses his advantage.

His sword, glinting ominously in the moonlight, is aimed for my throat, a final, vicious strike. Time slows, each moment elongated as if the very air is holding its breath.

This is it. My end will come at the hands of a mountain thief.

But then, like a fleeting savior, an arrow arcs from the shadows, slicing through the night with deadly precision.

My eyes widen as it crashes into the thief's throat, a sudden eruption of blood gushing forth.

The thief staggers, his sword dropping from nerveless fingers as his body crumples to the ground, a mere echo of the threat he posed just moments before.

Unable to move, I lie on the forest floor, bloodied and battered, my gaze fixed on the unfolding scene.

Like a sudden twist in a movie, a pack of unknown wolves dashes in, led by a fierce female with auburn hair that seems to catch the very essence of the moon's glow.

Time stands still as they swarm—a synchronized force against the remaining thieves. The air echoes with the clash of fur, fang, and steel as they systematically beat back the assailants.

I'm in shock, and my alpha instincts are momentarily subdued by the unexpected turn of events.

Amidst the tumult, my gaze fixes on the fiery-haired female, her aura ablaze with determination. She moves with a fluid grace, fierce in her fight.

The twang of a bowstring accompanies an arrow's flight, and I realize she's the one who shot the arrow, a silent harbinger of salvation.

In a flash, as if the veil of time briefly lifts, a sense of familiarity washes over me. Her eyes meet mine, and for that brief moment, it's as if I've glimpsed her in the echoes of a distant memory.

A tiger. She's like a tiger.

The chaotic sounds of battle gradually subside as the thieves retreat into the shadows, finally leaving us alone in the moonlit clearing.

I muster the strength to stand, wincing in pain. As I rise, my eyes meet the gaze of the fiery-haired female.

As our eyes lock, I feel it.

The mate bond.

The bond forms—a magnetic force that draws us together.

My breath catches as she starts to approach. An undeniable pull tugs at my very core—a captivating force in the moonlight

Confusion dances in her eyes. We both seem to struggle to reconcile the inexplicable connection that binds us. How can she be my mate? There's no mark on her skin.

Yet, the resonance between us speaks louder than any physical mark. Her proximity sparks a magnetic current, drawing me closer with an irresistible tug. The air around us crackles, and the chaos seems to fade into the background.

I'm vaguely aware of her wolves mingling with my pack, tending to our injured. But questions swirl in my mind. Is she the chosen one, the Fated mate destined to bring change to our pack?

The moonlight casts a gentle glow on her, and I see no mark, no overt sign of destiny. But the mate bond, invisible yet undeniable, reveals a truth beyond what can be seen.

I stand there, breath held, as she walks toward me.

God, she's so beautiful—and so familiar.

She halts before me, a magnetic presence in the moonlit clearing, and the intensity in her gaze sends a shiver down my spine. The mate pull tightens, demanding a restraint I've never felt before. Her hungry eyes mirror my need.

My hands fist by my side. Anything to keep from reaching for her.

Her eyes trail down my chest, lingering on the gruesome wound I earned in battle. The realization of my vulnerability hits me sharply.

"You're wounded," She states in a low, sultry sound that cuts through the night. "You need to see a healer."

The command is firm and delivered with a sensuality that further confounds my senses. The enigma of the mate bond, the undeniable connection, pulses between us as I grapple with the conflicting currents of desire and duty.

"I'm fine," I grunt.

She raises her brow. "You look like you're going to faint."

"I said I'm fine. We'll be leaving now. Thanks for your help."

She looks around. "You can leave if you insist. I'll bring the others into my pack for the healer."

"I'm the Alpha," I growl, eyes flashing. "They go nowhere without me."

She scoffs and wraps her arms across her chest, pushing soft breasts toward me.

My mouth waters.

"If you're the Alpha, then you should be concerned about your soldier's wellbeing."

I growl at her—feisty, no-nonsense female.

She's definitely mine.