The Wolf's Queen Vows

Chapter 47: Second Wave

Then she saw three Wanderers descending the left flank, heading straight for her.

Galen turned just in time to see them rushing toward Aveloria. His body reacted before his mind did. He sprinted forward, slicing down another Wanderer in his way. But before he could reach her, one of the creatures slashed at him, claws tearing deep into his side.

He stumbled, pain shooting through his ribs. His wolf growled inside him, trying to keep him on his feet.

"Galen!" Aveloria shouted, hearing his pain through their faint bond.

He gritted his teeth, forcing himself upright, but another Wanderer came from behind and clawed his shoulder. Blood soaked his armor. He pushed the creature back and shouted, "Protect the heiress! Surround her!"

Two soldiers ran to cover Aveloria’s flank while she fought off the three that had targeted her. They were faster and stronger than the last group. She slashed one across the chest, stabbed another in the neck, but the third lunged forward, claws almost grazing her cheek. She turned sharply and drove her sword through its spine.

"Galen!" she called again.

He was still fighting, barely staying upright, his face pale from blood loss. He was trying to get to her, forcing his way through the swarm of Wanderers. Every step looked painful, but he didn’t stop.

Aveloria felt his pain echoing in her chest. It made her more desperate. Her wolf wanted to break free, to tear through the enemies surrounding them, but she held it back. She needed to stay in control.

Another scream went up as a soldier fell. The line was breaking. There were too many wanderers.

"Fall back!" Galen tried to shout, but his voice was hoarse.

Before he could give another order, a sound ripped through the forest, a deep, mighty howl that froze everything for a moment.

It wasn’t the growl of a Wanderer. It was something pure, something commanding. The Wanderers stopped mid-attack. Their heads snapped toward the sound, and some began retreating into the mist.

Aveloria turned toward the source. Her eyes widened.

From between the trees, a massive wolf emerged. Its fur was dark gray, almost black under the moonlight. Its eyes glowed gold. Each step it took was heavy, confident, and filled with authority.

He shifted mid-stride, stretching his body and reshaping his bones. His growls deepened, vibrating through the air.

"Theron..." Aveloria whispered.

The soldiers stared in disbelief as the Alpha’s wolf circled the clearing, teeth bared. The Wanderers hesitated, snarling at him but not daring to attack. ƒгeewёbnovel.com

Theron lunged. He hit the first group like a storm, claws and teeth ripping through flesh. He was faster than any normal wolf, moving with precision and rage. He tore two Wanderers in half, then crushed another two throats before they could react.

The soldiers regained their courage and tightened their formation around him.

"Push forward!" Galen commanded through gritted teeth.

Theron’s wolf howled again, sending several Wanderers fleeing into the dark. But more kept coming. They were drawn to the scent of blood, to the chaos.

Aveloria stepped forward, standing beside Theron’s wolf. Together, they formed a barrier between the Wanderers and the injured men. Theron’s wolf growled low, circling her as if shielding her from every direction.

A Wanderer lunged at Aveloria’s side. Before it could reach her, Theron pounced, snapping its neck swiftly. He landed beside her, his golden eyes locked on her for a second, a silent check that she was unharmed. She nodded slightly and turned back to the fight.

Another wave came from the right. Aveloria charged into them, her sword cutting through flesh and bone. Galen, though wounded, forced himself to fight again, covering the rear line. Each swing of his blade was slower, but he didn’t stop.

The air was thick with blood and dust. Every breath burned. For every Wanderer that fell, two more seemed to come.

"Theron!" Aveloria shouted as one of the creatures went for Galen.

The Alpha wolf turned immediately, slamming into the Wanderer and tearing it apart before it could reach him. He circled back, growling as more tried to break through.

Galen dropped to one knee, holding his side. His vision blurred, but he kept his sword raised.

Aveloria saw him struggling. She fought for him, slashing through a Wanderer that got too close. Theron’s wolf followed, clearing a path with brutal efficiency.

They reached Galen just as another group approached. Aveloria knelt beside him, blocking an attack while Theron’s wolf lunged past them, protecting their flank.

"Stay still!" she said sharply.

"I’m fine," Galen muttered, though his face said otherwise.

"You’re bleeding badly."

He gave a faint grin. "It’s not the worst I’ve had."

Before she could argue, another roar filled the clearing. The Wanderers hesitated, their black eyes flicking toward the trees. Then, as quickly as they had come, they began retreating, melting back into the mist.

The soldiers stood frozen, unsure whether to chase or hold position.

"Hold!" Aveloria shouted. "Let them go." She ordered.

Within minutes, the forest grew quiet again. The mist thinned, and only blood and burnt corpses stench remained.

Aveloria lowered her sword, chest heaving from exhaustion. Her armor was soaked with blood, most of it not hers. She turned toward Theron’s wolf.

He stood tall among the bodies, his fur stained red and his eyes glowing. His growl softened when he looked at her.

She took his sword from his hand. He was pale, his side bleeding heavily. Two soldiers hurried to help him stand.

"I told you I’m fine," Galen muttered, though his legs trembled.

"You’re not. We’re going back. Now." Aveloria said firmly.

She turned to the soldiers. "Get the horses ready. We ride for the palace immediately."

"Yes, Heiress." They chorused.

They moved quickly, helping Galen onto his horse. He winced as the movement pulled at his wounds. Aveloria checked him for a few seconds to ensure he could stay upright.

Behind her, Theron’s wolf growled softly, drawing her attention. He was watching her, his eyes calm but intense. Waiting.

She walked toward him. Her boots crunched over dead leaves and blood. She stopped right in front of him. He lowered his head slightly, as if asking for acknowledgment.

Without hesitation, she reached out and placed her hand on the side of his head, her fingers sinking into his thick fur. She pressed her forehead to his.

"You shouldn’t have come out here," his deep and steady voice rumbled in her mind through their bond.

"I had no choice," she whispered back. "Neither did you."

He gave a low sound that almost resembled a sigh.

"Thank you for coming," she added softly.

His wolf huffed, a brief sound of acknowledgment. Then he turned away, walking toward the front of the group.

As they mounted their horses and began the ride back, Theron didn’t return to his human form. He stayed in his wolf shape, leading the way. His body moved with precision, his senses alert. Every time a branch snapped in the distance, his ears twitched. He stayed close to the path, ensuring nothing came near them.

Aveloria kept glancing ahead, watching him move. She felt their connection stronger than ever, a silent understanding that no words could replace.

Behind her, Galen rode with the help of two soldiers. His face was pale, but he was awake, occasionally giving quiet orders to keep the men alert.

The forest stretched endlessly, dark and quiet now, but everyone knew it was far from safe. The Wanderers had retreated, not vanished.

By the time they reached the outer gates of the palace, dawn was breaking. The light was weak, barely touching the horizon. The guards at the gate froze when they saw the group approaching, blood-stained, wounded, but alive.

"Open the gates!" Aveloria shouted.

The gates creaked open, and they rode through. Servants rushed out, shocked by the sight.

"Get the healers! Now!" Aveloria barked out the orders.

Some of the palace guards ran ahead to fetch them.

Theron’s wolf stopped at the courtyard, his fur glistening with dried blood. He looked around once more before finally shifting back to his human form. His chest rose and fell heavily, but his expression was calm.

He walked toward Aveloria. "You’re hurt?"

"Only scratches," she said. "Galen needs more attention."

Theron turned to Galen, who was barely conscious now. He nodded to two soldiers. "Get him to the infirmary. Make sure the healers don’t leave his side."

They carried him away quickly.

Aveloria stood still for a moment, watching them go. The exhaustion hit her all at once: the weight of the battle, the screams, and the smell of blood.

Theron stepped closer. "You did well," he said quietly.

She looked at him. "We almost lost half the patrol."

"But you didn’t," he replied. "You led them out alive. That’s what matters."

Aveloria nodded slowly. "For now." She answered.

Theron looked toward the forest beyond the palace walls. His expression darkened. "This isn’t over."

"I know," Aveloria said. "But next time, we’ll be ready." Determination was evident in her tone and expression.