Bound: The Rare & Her Lycan King
{ZEPH}
The roar hit first, a guttural wave that vibrated in my bones, followed by the frantic shouts of our defenders against enemy.
Emberwood Falls, usually a symphony of cascading water and the gentle hum of ember lightening buts, was suddenly a cacophony of chaos. The air itself tasted of fear and the metallic tang of blood.
“It’s okay, young mistress.” I spoke with respect but compassion as I wiped the tears from her cheek. “We will get you to safety.”
She was a young shifter, a species famous for harboring their children close to them. This must mean that her parents were either injured or dead.
I wouldn’t tell her this, however. The main priority was to get her to safety.
We rushed through the trees, edging the street until I found an opening into the road.
As we hit the street, the air itself tasting of fear and blood, Elara and I rushed ahead attempting to get out of harm’s way. Something that I knew we could only avoid for so long.
“Come on, sweetie. We must hurry,” I said in a gentle yet rushed tone.
She tried to keep up but the sudden feral cry rang out in the distance. Through the flickering, bioluminescent glow of the emberflies clinging to the edge of the forest, the feral lunged.
“Elara, stay behind me!”
A grotesque shadow with sharp, yellowed teeth bared, trying to snap at me, its red eyes burning with a savage hunger.
Fear, having forced Elara to forget to heed my warning, stumbled backward and right into the path of a snarling beast.
“Elara!” I yelled,my voice tight with urgency. I whipped out my knife as the beast snapped viciously at me, flipped it on its handle and lunged the blade into its head.
It crumbled atop of me. It was too heavy for me to quickly slide from under it. I struggled to get from underneath it. I was nearly clear of the beast when my foot got stuck under its claw.
“Shit!” I cursed under my breath as I yanked forward so hard, the dead feral’s claw dug into my calf, cutting me deep.
Injured, I got up, adrenaline carrying me to the young shifter. “Elara!” I yelled, my voice tight with urgency, and lunged forward, shoving the youngling behind a sturdy tree nearing the forest just as the claws struck the air where she’d just stood in terror. “Stay down, little one! Don’t come out until I tell you.”
My training, honed over years at Master Alaric’s side, kicked in without conscious thought. Not time for fear, only action. Another feral snarled, its fetid breath hot on my face as it swiped.
I sidestepped, the worn leather of my bracers a familiar comfort as I deflected its attack with a swift, practiced movement. My own small dagger, more a tool than a weapon in the hands of some, felt like an extension of my will.
A quick thrust, aimed for a vulnerable joint, and the creature shrieked, momentarily stunned, giving the others time to react.
I wasn’t defenseless, despite being human in a world teeming with Inhumans–beings of incredible strength and abilities. My strength lay in observation, in anticipation, in knowing Alaric’s strategies as he did.
I moved through the fray, a shadow amongst shadows, calling out warnings, directing those less experienced, always keeping one eye on Alaric, my Alpha, as he moved like a whirlwind of fur and fury against the relentless assault. My loyalty to him, to Emberwood, ran deeper than blood. This was my home, my pack all but name. I would bleed for it.
Then, the world tilted on its axis. One moment I was guiding a terrified youngling to the safety of Central Hall, Elara tucked safely by my side, the next, a force slammed into me. A brutal grip clamped around my arm, yanking me backward with shocking speed. My breath hitched, and a strangled cry escaped my lips.
“Ah!” I gasped in slight pain from his near bone-breaking strength. “What-” I stopped as I suddenly took in the giant before me.
He was a whirlwind of darkness and raw power. Tall, with eyes that seemed to pierce through the chaos and lock onto mine with unnerving intensity. Who was this guy?
His face, shadowed in the flickering light of the evening, held a stark, almost brutal beauty about it.
I wanted to say something but…I couldn’t.
“Why are you out in the thick of this attack human!?” his voice, rough-edged and carrying the slightest unfamiliar cadence, cut through the brisk night air. His words were so gruff and harsh that they sounded like an accusation, laced with a hint of something I couldn’t decipher.
I didn’t have time for this. “I need to get this child to safety.”
“Is she your Master?” he asked.
“No-”
“Then why are you even near her?”
“I found her! I’m trying to save her! No-”
“I don’t believe you.”
He was wasting my time. Instinct took over. Fear of him or anyone else around me was a luxury that I couldn’t afford at this point. My training screamed in my mind-react, survive! And without another word, I twisted, leveraging his grip against him. My other hand shot up, fingers finding the pressure point at his waist.
He was strong, impossibly so, but surprise was my ally. A sharp, focused pressure, and his hold loosened fractionally. Just enough.
I wrenched my arm free and spun, placing distance between us. Elara whimpered, hiding behind my leg. My dagger was in my hand, held low and steady. His gaze followed my every move, a flicker of something akin to surprise–or was it…recognition?- crossing his features. I was leaning more to the side of surprise as clearly he hadn’t expected resistance, certainly not from a ‘lowly’ human.
Even in the midst of the ongoing battle, a strange stillness seemed to settle between us. His eyes, dark and intense, lingered on me, not with the dismissive contempt I sometimes saw from outsiders, but with a possessive heat that sent a shiver down my spine.
It was unsettling, primal, a connection that sparked something unfamiliar within me, a whisper in the storm of my senses.
What was in his gaze? It was as if he saw something in me that I didn’t yet understand.
The feral I had injured earlier lunged again, breaking the strange connection. This strange inhuman’s attention snapped back to the immediate threat, and he moved with a speed that blurred the edges of my vision, dispatching the creature with brutal efficiency.
The rest of the battle passed in a blur. I fought alongside others, my movements precise and economical, driven by a fierce protectiveness for Emberwood and its people.
Even young Elara, who I managed to return to an adult shifter of her clan, grabbed my hand as I ran past to check on a fallen guard.
“He needs medical attention!” I exclaimed, holding down the gaping wound in his side. The blood pooled at his side as my thoughts selfishly turned back to that mysterious and aggressive inhuman.
Who was he?
Remembering the intensity of his gaze, the almost…possessive heat in his eyes. Or maybe I just assumed that every male inhuman considered-a human, a possession. Regardless, it lingered in my mind, a disquieting echo in the chaos. It was a look that promised…something. Something dangerous. Something that felt inexplicably, terrifyingly, like a weird connection-good or bad, forged in the shadows of this dark night.
“Why do I get the feeling that I haven’t seen the last of him?” I whispered to myself.
*********
The fighting eventually subsided, leaving behind an exhausted silence and the grim task of tending to the wounded.
I found Lyra near the triage tent, her face tight with a familiar resentment as the efficiently barked orders to the healers. I approached cautiously; any interaction with Master Alaric’s daughter was usually filled with unspoken tension.
“Mistress, Lyra,” I began, my voice neutral. “Is there anything I can do to assist?”
She glanced at me, her eyes narrowed. “As if you don’t already have your hands full, Zeph.” The way she emphasized my given name, a subtle barb, was typical. “Perhaps you could try staying out of the way for now. You know how fragile you humans can be.”
I clenched my jaw, refusing to take the bait. “There’s a lot of people injured. I only want help.
She scoffed. “We’ll see to them. Daddy will probably be here soon, and if not there are plenty of pack members who are. “So, don’t worry about it. Try not to get in the way.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Her words, laced with the usual disdain, were a stark reminder of my place in Emberwood. Advisor, bodyguard, yes. A very rare privilege for a human to have. But still, and always, an outsider.
