Alpha's Ruin: He Betrayed Me, I'll Make Him Kneel

"Take your hands off the Alpha! Now!" Aaron’s Beta snapped, taking a sharp step forward, his jaw clenched tight enough to grind teeth.

"One more step and I will tear his throat open!" River growled loudly in her mind, her claws scraping against the inside of Rhea’s ribs.

Rhea said nothing, nor did she loosen her chokehold. She stared directly at the Beta, her face glowing with raw defiance as her pulse thudded against her ears.

"Lower your weapons," Aaron ordered, his tone shockingly calm despite her thumb pressing hard into his windpipe.

"Alpha—"

"I said weapons down!" Aaron snapped, his gaze flickering with a sudden, lethal power. He looked back at Rhea, his dark eyes fixed on hers. "Now, let me go."

Rhea swallowed hard, her chest heaving against his chest. She glanced over at the war chief, who was now standing with a dark expression on his face. Slowly, she relaxed her fingers and pulled her hand back, her skin still prickling from the heat of Aaron’s skin.

Aaron smoothed his collar, his lips curling into a cold smirk. "Kaleb is not here. So you had better leave." He turned his back on her, walking unhurriedly toward his stolen throne.

Rhea did not retreat. If anything, she planted her boots firmer on the stone floor. "What did you do with him?" she demanded.

"It is a shame that after everything, you still search for him," the war chief said, shaking his head as he looked at her. "I only hope it is for the reason I think."

Rhea glared at him, her jaw locked tightly. Before she could unleash the fire burning in her throat, Aaron cut her off.

"The so-called king ran off before I could even cross his border," Aaron said, pausing to scoff as he sat down in the chair. "What a coward." He leaned back, resting his arms on the wooden armrests, his amber eyes locking onto hers. "When you find him, tell him that I would like a word."

Rhea’s brows furrowed into a tight frown at his words. "Well, I—"

"You should leave while you still have your breath, or you will learn the consequences of putting your hands on an Alpha king," Aaron said softly. His tone was smooth, but the threat behind it was heavy.

Rhea stared at him for a long, silent moment. She let her gaze sweep over the war chief and the armed warriors filling the room. Then she turned on her heel and began to walk away.

"Escort her out of the packhouse," the war chief’s voice boomed after her.

Rhea’s fists clenched at her sides, her nails cutting into her palms, but she kept her pace steady. She pushed through the heavy double doors and stepped out into the open courtyard. The sharp mountain air hit her face, crisp and cool, but it did not cool the anger in her blood. She stopped in the middle of the stone clearing, drawing a ragged breath.

"Keep walking," a guard’s rough voice spat from right behind her. "Or we will throw you in a cell for trespassing."

Rhea snapped her head around, glaring at the guards. She said nothing, her silence heavier than a threat. Turning her eyes back to the grand fortress, she let out a slow sigh.

So you ran, Kaleb. The bitterness in her chest surprised her. She had expected him to fight for Ironfang until his last breath. Instead, he had disappeared into the mountains.

She scoffed, turning her back on the packhouse for good, and started walking down the dirt path toward the village.

The streets were eerily quiet. The usual bustle of Ironfang life had been replaced by a heavy, suffocating stillness. As she walked down the cobblestone road, she noticed an elderly woman shuffling toward her with a woven basket.

Rhea kept her chin up and kept moving. As she was about to pass the woman, the elder stopped right in front of her path.

"Luna," the woman said, her voice shaky and weathered like old parchment. "Would you like to buy some freshly baked bread?"

Rhea did not stop. Her mind was fixed entirely on the single objective that had brought her to these territory lines. Find Kaleb.

"No, thank you," she said gently, trying to step around her.

Rhea paused when she heard the soft scrape of sandals behind her. The woman was following her. She turned, her brow pulling into a frown.

"You should eat something, Luna Rhea," the elder said, her thin arms stretching forward to offer a small, warm loaf wrapped in cloth.

Rhea’s eyes widened slightly. "You know me?" she asked in a low voice.

The old woman stepped closer, her eyes scanning the empty street before leaning in. "The Alpha king is not here," she whispered. "He is up in the high peaks. Hiding." She shook her head, her lips trembling as if the words physically hurt her to speak aloud.

Rhea’s heart slammed against her ribs. Her chest heaved as her breathing quickened. "Are you sure? How do you know?"

The woman gestured around at the silent houses, her weathered hands trembling in the cold wind. "Everyone knows, but no one is allowed to speak his name under Blackfang rule." She softened, her dark eyes looking up into Rhea’s.

"Do not worry about me, child. I am already old, and I am ready for death to take me when it wills. I only never thought a day would come when I would walk through these streets and see the Ironfang banners ripped down."

Rhea shook her head, her heart aching for the pack members left behind. "Can you point me in the direction where he went?"

The old woman lifted her trembling hand, pointing a thin finger toward the jagged, snow-dusted mountains rising above the tree line. "The northern trail," the woman whispered. "Follow it until the trees thin."

Rhea frowned. "And then?"

The woman glanced toward the packhouse before lowering her voice. "Then you will know where to go."

Rhea looked toward the wild peaks, her pulse pounding in her ears like a war drum. She gave a firm nod. "Thank you," she said sincerely.

"Be careful," the old woman called out softly behind her. "The mountain path is dangerous."

Rhea did not look back. Her steps quickened, transitioning from a fast walk into a full sprint as she hit the edge of the tree line. The dense foliage swallowed her whole, shielding her from the town.

She surged up the steep path, her boots digging into the damp pine needles. Just as she crossed into the deep forest, a sudden scent hit her nose, cutting through the damp chill.

Smoked pine, heavy cedarwood, and rain-soaked earth.

Rhea stopped. Her heart gave one violent kick. Adam.

River lifted her head inside Rhea’s mind. "He’s here."

Rhea’s eyes swept through the trees. Nothing. No footsteps. No movement. No familiar black wolf. Her brows pulled together.

It could be an old trail, she told herself.

But River gave a low, knowing growl. "No. That’s him."

Rhea exhaled sharply, forcing her lungs to clear as she pushed the thought away.

Suddenly—

"Luna Rhea?" a tiny voice called out from the dark brush.

Rhea snapped around, her pulse spiking as her wolf surged to the surface, ready for a fight. She scanned the trees at shoulder height before lowering her gaze.

Standing beside a mossy boulder was a small boy, no older than seven, watching her with wide, clear eyes. He wore a plain tunic, his messy hair dusted with dry leaves.

Before she could speak, the child stepped forward and reached out, his small hand wrapping tightly around her fingers.

"Come with me," the boy said quietly.

Rhea frowned, looking down at his small hand, and then past him into the shadows of the deep forest.

Rhea frowned, staring at the child’s small hand wrapped around hers. "Who are you? What are you doing out here? It is dangerous," she said, her voice laced with worry as she crouched slightly toward him.

The boy glanced over his shoulder into the darkness. "Someone told me to bring you."

Rhea’s heart stopped. "Who?"

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