Shifters - The King of Wolves - Book 1

CHAPTER 57 - A WHIRLWIND OF CLAWS AND TEETH

Egon POV

The earth beneath me trembled with each thunderous step as I stormed towards the open field with blinding speed. I could feel my muscles tensing, the rage burning inside me at the thought of the rogues trespassing on our land, daring to attack our pack.

But even as I thundered towards them, there was a knot in my chest. My mind was torn between my duty to my pack and the instinctual need to protect my mate. Rationally, I knew Leif was more than capable of protecting Esmara. He would sacrifice his life to ensure she reached the shelters unharmed. My duty was with the pack, to stand and fight with them. Yet I felt a conflicting pull in my heart, urging me to turn back and protect her myself. I forced myself to focus on what I knew was true. My pack needed me, and Esmara would be safe in the underground shelters.

I could feel Ares's presence in the back of my mind, but he remained silent. I didn't question it anymore. He had always been like this during crucial moments, ever since that fateful day when I was thirteen. He had blamed himself, convinced that if he hadn't run deeper into the woods the day our home was attacked, the pack might have returned sooner and would have been able to defend themselves better. From then on, he had taken a step back, leaving me in control when it mattered most. He trusted my mind more than his instincts, understanding that strategy would win battles, not brute strength alone.

My eyes swept over the field as I arrived. Most of my warriors had already shifted into their wolves, their bodies tight with tension and their ears twitching at the faintest rustle they picked up from the woods. Meanwhile, Mallory and Brielle were attempting to group the confused humans and shifters, leading them away from the field toward the shelters.

However, their confusion disappeared the instant they saw me, and fear took its place. The humans shrieked upon seeing me, backing away with wide, terrified eyes. While my pack's fear arose from the realisation that the only reason I stood before them as my Lycan was because danger was near.

I could feel them all trying to reach out to me in my mind at once, but I shut them out, blocking their panic from flooding my thoughts. I didn't have the time to comfort them.

Turning my gaze away from them, I looked to Brielle, ready to reach out through the mind link, when dozens of flaming arrows suddenly pierced the night. They rained down like hellfire, their fiery tips igniting the bushes around us, engulfing them in a blazing inferno.

My warriors and I moved with trained precision, effortlessly dodging the arrows as my gaze snapped to the edge of the forest, where dozens of rogues emerged, storming toward us with relentless speed. A cacophony of snarls and growls filled the air as my warriors clashed with the rogues in brutal combat. The humans and Omegas screamed in terror, their frantic cries piercing the night as they stumbled and tripped over one another in their desperate attempts to escape.

"Get them to the shelter, now!" I snarled at Brielle through the mind link, urgency dripping from my voice. She quickly nodded as she pushed the group into action, her face twisted with determination.

A sudden movement on my left seized my attention as a rogue charged at me, his lips pulled back to bare his snarling teeth. Before he could pounce, I lunged forward, sinking my teeth into his throat in one smooth motion. The metallic taste of his blood flooded my mouth. I dropped the rogue as his body went limp, and I prepared to strike again when my gaze was suddenly drawn back to the forest.

Through the densely packed trees, I saw dozens of skinners slowly emerging from the forest, their eyes wild with madness and sinister grins plastered on their faces. I was caught off guard by their presence. Not just due to their appearance, but because of the eerie silence around them. While the thick, rancid stench of the rogues filled the air, the skinners smelled like nothing. Even their movements were unnaturally quiet-no crunch of leaves beneath their feet, no snap of twigs. Nothing. It was as if the air itself swallowed every trace of their presence.