A Bloody Rescue

VESPERA

**VESPERA**

The horrific reality sets in the moment I lock eyes with them. They found me by accident. Hiding in plain sight is only effective until sheer, dumb luck decides to ruin your life. A high knight and a dark earth witch from the Avalon coven stand menacingly in the middle of the dimly lit street. Their intimidating postures firmly block my only path home. The knight wears heavy armor over dark leather. The witch wears a sleek black cloak that seems to swallow the ambient light around her. I recognize the blood-red badge on the knight’s shoulder instantly. A black six-pointed star.

They know exactly who I am. The vile words slip from the knight's lips, calling me the cursed one.

Panic flares bright and hot in my chest. My immense dark powers remain suppressed by Valeraine's lingering seals. Attempting to draw on my magic now will only yield a pathetic, useless spark, nowhere near enough to fight off two elite Avalon enforcers. I know for a fact that I have to act purely on human instinct to survive this encounter. I grip the plastic container of leftover diner food tight in my shaking hands. The knight reaches into his pocket, pulling out a handful of spell-inscribed parchment. I have a split second to make a desperate decision.

"Piss off." I snarl the words, channeling every ounce of venom I possess into my voice.

I hurl the plastic container straight at the earth witch's face. The cheap lid pops off in mid-air. Cold spaghetti and greasy marinara sauce slap across her pale skin and dark hair. The witch shrieks in shock, her hands flying up to wipe the food from her eyes. I do not wait to watch the mess slide down her cloak. I spin on my heels and instantly bolt down the dark alleyway.

Heavy footsteps slap against the concrete behind me. The heavily armored knight shouts a harsh incantation. A volatile explosive spell whizzes dangerously past my ear. The intense heat singes the ends of my pale hair. The magical projectile slams against a brick wall to my right. The deafening explosion showers my shoulders with sharp debris and thick dust. I keep my head down and sprint blindly in sheer terror.

The ground beneath my running feet begins to tremble. The earth witch is chanting now. Deep, jagged cracks tear open in the pavement, chasing my heels like hungry snakes. Slabs of concrete jut upward, attempting to trip me or crush my ankles. The earth witch forces these fissures open directly beneath my feet. I leap over a widening crack. My lungs burn with the effort. The foul, rotting stench of dark magic thickens the cold night air.

I turn sharply around a blind corner, desperate to lose them in the labyrinth of narrow streets. My feet barely touch the ground.

I crash straight into a solid wall of pure radiating muscle and extreme body heat.

The explosive impact knocks the breath from my lungs. A sharp gasp leaves my lips. I expect to hit the filthy, wet pavement, but a massive, muscular arm snakes tightly around my fragile waist. The grip is unyielding, catching me before I can fall. I throw my head back and look up in a total panic. My stomach plummets to the floor.

Glowing, dangerous emerald green eyes flash down at me in the dim alley light.

A werewolf.

I realize with utter horror that I have just run from one deadly enemy straight into the muscular arms of another. The sheer size of him eclipses the dim streetlights. I instantly begin to thrash and fight. I kick my legs. I shove my small hands against the hard, muscular expanse of his chest.

"Let go of me! Let me go right now!" I yell at the beast.

I struggle against his hold, but my efforts are useless. His large hands gripping my waist are as immovable as solid rock. Pushing against him feels like trying to shove a mountain. He does not budge. He does not even blink. He just stares down at me, his intense gaze burning into my skin. His divine, intoxicating scent wraps around me, a stark contrast to the decay of the witches pursuing me.

Footsteps echo at the mouth of the alleyway. The two coven pursuers quickly catch up. Their dark magic makes the air thick and suffocating with hostility. I freeze in the werewolf's arms, looking over my shoulder. The knight stands ready with another spell. The earth witch wipes a smear of diner food from her cheek, her eyes blazing with murderous intent.

The witch steps forward. A cold, arrogant smirk twists her lips.

"Give the girl to us, mutt, and you are free to leave." The earth witch sneers, her tone dripping with condescension.

This is the perfect moment for the werewolf to toss me aside and save his own skin. The hostility between our kinds is legendary. He has no reason to involve himself in a witch hunt.

"Let go of me." I command frantically, glaring up at the werewolf.

He ignores my pleas. He does not loosen his iron grip. Instead, he simply shifts my fragile body behind his massive, muscular frame in a fiercely protective stance. The sudden movement confuses me. He stands between me and the coven members, effectively shielding me from their view.

"Walk away now, and no one gets hurt." He warns the witches.

His deep, booming masculine voice reverberates through the narrow alley. The raw dominance in his tone makes my heart thrum strangely in my chest. I stare at the broad expanse of his back. Why is he doing this? The answer hits me a second later. He probably thinks I am just a helpless, mundane human girl caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. If this werewolf knew I was a notorious dark witch, he would have handed me over for slaughter without a second thought.

A suffocating wave of power rolls off his broad shoulders. I realize by his immense aura that he is an Alpha wolf. I watch in frozen awe as the tension snaps.

He suddenly charges the coven members with terrifying, supernatural speed. He moves so fast he is little more than a dark blur. The armored knight barely has time to raise his hands. In one brutal, fluid motion, the Alpha grabs the knight by the helmet. The werewolf twists and pulls with devastating force. The sickening sound of flesh tearing and bone snapping echoes off the brick walls. The Alpha brutally rips the armored knight's head clean off his shoulders. Thick, dark blood sprays across the alley, painting the brick walls red. The knight's headless body crumples to the pavement.

I stumble back, horrified by the sheer brutality.

The earth witch does not retreat. She quickly chants a rapid spell, slamming her palms against the ground. The earth rumbles furiously beneath the Alpha's boots. Several thick, jagged wooden stakes burst upward from the cracked pavement. They brutally impale the Alpha's broad chest, tearing through his leather jacket and sinking deep into his flesh. Dark blood pours from the devastating, fatal-looking wounds.

I gasp, expecting him to fall. Without even flinching or slowing down from the devastating strikes, the Alpha reaches to his side.

He throws a combat knife with blinding speed. The blade deeply slices the witch's cheek, drawing a line of bright red blood. The witch stumbles, her concentration breaking for a fraction of a second. It is all the Alpha needs.

He lunges forward with a chilling, demonic growl. His eyes blaze with emerald fire. His elongated canines gleam in the dim light. He thrusts his large, clawed hand directly through the witch's ribcage. The sickening crunch of breaking ribs fills the air. The witch's eyes bulge in shock. Before she can finish her next destructive spell, the Alpha brutally rips her beating heart out of her chest.

Blood rains down on the concrete. The witch's lifeless body collapses into the dirt. The Alpha stands victorious, crushing the witch's bloody heart in his massive fist until it is nothing but ruined tissue.

The immediate threat is dead, but the toll of the battle catches up to the werewolf. His supernatural adrenaline finally fades. He drops the ruined heart. He falls heavily to his knees. A wet, ragged gasp escapes his lips. He collapses face-first into the filthy dirt, bleeding out rapidly from the jagged wooden stakes protruding from his chest.

Pure terror urges me to run away. I need to leave him to die. I need to disappear into the night before more coven members arrive. If anyone finds these bodies, they will assume it was a random wolf attack. I can escape. I take a step back, my eyes fixed on the growing pool of blood beneath the fallen Alpha.

I cannot do it.

The strict, ancient code of my bloodline binds my soul. Daughters of Hecate must always return a life favor. This monstrous Alpha just took lethal stakes to the chest to protect me. I owe him my life.

Desperate and terrified, I rush over to his fallen form. I drop to my knees in the puddle of blood. He is huge. Rolling his massive frame over takes immense effort. I grab his broad shoulder and heave, panting as I flip him onto his back. The thick wooden stakes look even worse up close. Blood bubbles around the jagged edges. I wrap my hands around the first blood-soaked stake.

"I am so sorry," I whisper to his unconscious face.

I painfully yank the thick wooden stakes from his bleeding chest. The sickening squelch of wet flesh makes my stomach churn. I toss the bloodied wood aside. He is losing too much blood too fast. I need to get him to my apartment and stem the bleeding.

I grab his heavy arms and struggle immensely to hoist his massive, dead-weight muscular frame onto my fragile back. My knees buckle under his sheer size. I grunt, forcing my legs to straighten. His glossy black hair falls against my neck. His scent of pine and leather mixes with the metallic tang of his blood.

I turn my head to look at the massive, bloody trail we are leaving behind. I close my eyes and dig deep into my core, reaching for the spark of magic hidden beneath Valeraine's seals. I strain the very limits of my sealed magic, whispering a concealing spell. The painful squeeze in my chest steals my breath. I force the magic outward, carefully erasing the massive, bloody trail on the pavement until not a single drop remains.

The walk back to my apartment should take five minutes. Tonight, it takes me twenty agonizing, back-breaking minutes of pure physical torture.

My legs scream in agony. My lungs burn with every labored breath. The Alpha's weight crushes my spine, threatening to drive me into the dirt with every step. Sweat drips down my forehead, stinging my eyes. I finally manage to drag his massive body into my hidden ground-floor apartment. I kick the door shut behind me, engaging the deadbolt.

Sweating and exhausted, I manage to forcefully haul his massive frame toward my small bed. I try to maneuver him onto the mattress, but my exhausted legs give out. We pitch forward. I accidentally pin my own small body beneath his crushing weight.

All the air leaves my lungs in a sharp rush. His broad chest presses heavily against my back, forcing me into the cheap mattress. I grunt, panic spiking as I wiggle my arms free. I shove him off of me. His head thumps softly against the wall next to the bed. I roll out from under him, panting heavily.

I stand over the bed and tear open the bloody, ruined remnants of his shirt to inspect the damage. The fabric gives way easily under my hands.

My breath hitches. His extremely muscular body is carved to god-like perfection. Deep ridges of muscle stretch across his broad chest and rippling abdomen. He looks like a marble statue brought to life, despite the deep, bleeding wounds marring his pale skin. A sudden flush of heat rises to my cheeks, a sight that makes me pause. I forcefully push the inappropriate distraction aside. The man is bleeding to death on my bed.

I rush to the bathroom and grab my meager first aid kit. I rapidly slap large medical plasters over his deep, bleeding chest wounds. The adhesive sticks to his skin, slowing the sluggish flow of blood. I notice a deep gash on his thick, muscular thigh. Arterial blood pulses from the wound, soaking through the fabric of his dark trousers.

I grab a spare cotton shirt from my laundry pile and tightly tie it around his muscular thigh to stem the heavy arterial bleeding. I press my hands against the makeshift tourniquet, watching until the red stain stops spreading.

I step back, wiping the sweat from my brow. I feel briefly proud of my makeshift, desperate first aid skills. I managed to stop the bleeding. The Alpha's chest rises and falls in a steady, rhythmic breathing pattern.

I am just about to turn away to clean myself up at the small sink when a brutal, suffocating tidal wave of suppressed memories hits my brain.

I freeze in place. My feet refuse to move. My heart pounds erratically in my throat, threatening to burst from my chest. I stare closely down at his handsome, unconscious face illuminated by the dim apartment light. The sharp line of his jaw. The curve of his brow. The slope of his nose.

The realization drops like a physical anvil. The air vanishes from the room.

I finally know exactly why this werewolf's face looked so terrifyingly familiar to me when I slammed into him in the alleyway.

It is him.

He is the exact same tracker from the dark forest all those years ago. The one who hunted me. The one who stood there and witnessed my fall. The monster from my darkest nightmares is currently bleeding on my bed, and I just saved his life.