Forgotten Luna

Chapter 8

I know , I KNOW! Im so sorry It took so long, I have when writers do it, But thats to Cleo we have it now! She made it longer and better! THANK YOU CLEO Chapter 8

Keean’s P.O.V

My dad always told me that someday, I would take over the pack. Someday, I would be a great leader, side by side by a great Luna, who would help me guide our flourishing pack. According to him, I would go down in history; I would be one of the strongest leaders. That’s what he always said when I had asked him about being an Alpha.

Then why didn’t I see this coming? Why haven’t I sensed the attack so that I could protect the people that I had sworn to guide and keep safe, no matter what?

Right now, I was getting angrier by the second; my pack was scattered, people were fighting, fighting for their lives. The same people that I trained to fight were fighting the Rogues. Mothers were running through the fighters, women who should’ve been safe in the packhouse right now, safe with their kids. Kids who got hurt because those rogues slipped past our guards.

My anger got the best of me as I ripped the double doors open, shattering the glass in the process. The harsh sound echoed along the yard, the yard of the home that has been passed down by my family, protected by them. I refused to let those rogues get what they wanted. I wouldn’t let them hurt my pack anymore. I wouldn’t lose anyone else!

My anger boiled over as I saw my family, my pack running around the yard but instead of playing, they were fighting the rogues off. Blood was smeared on the grass, wolves clashed against each other while the air filled with snarls, whines and howls of pain.

I ripped out of my clothing midstride as I shifted, causing people from both sides to look up at me, especially after I wrecked the door. Some looked up at me with fear and nervousness, others with pride and awe; I was considerably large and feared.

A movement to my right pulled my attention towards a small, white she-wolf, who had a tan spot around her left eye and a tan mark on each of her ears. I recognized her immediately; it was Melissa, my cousin and she was busy defending herself against a larger male rogue. She was holding her own but the fight was quickly draining her energy.

The rogue tried to lock his jaws over her right hind leg, snapping wildly when she maneuvered out of his range, dodging his attack with impeccable speed. The male snarled, missing Melissa’s fury leg barely as he turned around, saliva dripping from his bared teeth.

I saw red as his canines grazed over her tail, electing a soft whine of Melissa as she jumped back. I loped to her side and knocked the brindle wolf over, pinning him down with his weight while a snarl erupted from my throat. My snarl deepened as he didn’t submit. Instead, he whimpered, feebly kicking and clawing at my underbelly.

With a deep, rumbling growl, I leaned forward and crushed his windpipe between my jaws, warmth flooding my mouth along with that familiar bitter, coppery taste. Dropping the carcass, I shuttered and spat the mouthful of blood and fur out. Melissa came forwards and leaned against my side, sharing a moment of support.

Her eyes scanned the battlefield before her muzzle scrunched up with a low growl, glaring at a wolf before she huffed and launched herself back in the battle, this time alongside her mother, who was old and was having a hard time taking the attacking wolf down.

Snarls echoed around the yard as an occasional wolf bumped in me, what made me react by snarling and snapping at the offender, only holding back when it was a member of the pack. Any rogue that bumped against me, ended up wounded or dead.

I spun around as I heard a whine, noticing that a rogue was chasing one of the females. It was snapping at her hind legs, grazing them as I turned to look. I snarled loudly and jumped onto of the wolf, which came almost halfway up my chest and ripped its life out of the creature, dropping it on the floor.