The Alpha’s mate Love and Revenge

He stood high on the mountain top. A man of 6’5ft could be clearly seen even without standing on a place as high as that.

He cracked his neck and his bones made a snapping sound. His fangs appeared as well as his claws. His blood flowed eccentrically and his eyes turned red, causing him to abruptly raise his head. A sinister look played on his face before he spoke.

“I am Karayan!” he boasted in a loud tone at the top of his voice as he looked down at his minions. They all hailed, cheering with their bones cracking in a way that could hurt but they felt nothing.

The roaring sound could be heard from thousands of hordes, thousands of spiteful voices who were prepared for war.

Their fangs poked out and their claws stretched forth. Their eyes were bloodshot with green strings of veins across their iris.

“We shall not bow to their cause. We shall destroy what is left of them!” Karayan who was standing on the mountain top yelled and they all roared again.

“We shall destroy what is left of them!” they all conjured in unison.

______________________________________

Lyra

She ran as fast as her legs could swing. With fear and sweat sprawling all over her body.

Her breath rhymed with the wind and the way her heart was pounding heavily pushed the tears to roll down her cheeks.

Lyra looked behind her as she ran and she could see her oppressors run as fast as they could behind her and almost meet up.

As she looked forward and increased her pace, she tripped over a twig, causing her to fall flat on her face.

“No, no!!” she wailed as she tried to get up but her ankle was broken. She looked over and saw the three hefty men almost catching up.

She dragged her butt on the muddy ground with her heartbeat heaving with fear.

The men were a few inches away from her now and she could see the broad smirk on their faces. Now, they were standing in front of her and though, she still tried to drag herself away from them, she was still of reach to them.

“Please,” Lyra cried and pleaded but they wouldn’t listen.

The man standing in the middle pulled out his dagger and walked closer to her. He bent on his toes so that he was now staring directly into her eyes.

The man tucked the strand of sweaty hair behind her ear and patted her head before he moved his head closer to her ear.

“It is going to be as fast as the flash of light, you wouldn’t even feel it,” he said as he raised the dagger with his hand in the air.

Lyra shut her eyes, shuddering and weeping, and then, just like a flash of light, she heard a sharp squelching sound followed by a heavy thud on the dried leaves.

She flipped her eyes open and then beside her on the ground lies a lifeless body with an arrow stuck to the side of his neck__blood gushing out.

With shock evident on her scared face, she looked around and in a few distance away from her, she could see the other two men swing their swords against a man.

Lyra tried to drag herself away but her leg was badly hurt.

A few swings of swords and a splash of seconds later, a young man walked closer to her, bent on his toes.

As he stretched his hand out towards her, she flinched, pleading with her eyes.

“Let me,” the young man said in a calm tone that kind of evoked the soft part of Lyra’s heart. Lyra raised her eyeballs and stared into his brown eyes without blinking away.

The young man raised his hand to her cheeks, wiping the dirt on her face. He tucked her hair behind her ear without taking his eyes off hers.

They locked eyes for what seems like a century before he slowly walked his palm, trailing her thighs as he did so and stopped right on her ankle.

“You’re badly hurt,” he said, staring down at her ankle.

“Who are you?” Lyra asked and he swiftly moved his gaze back to her face.

“Uhmm… sorry about the whole thing. My bad…I’m uhmm…Fenrir. Did they hurt you?” he pointed at the bodies.

Lyra rubbed the tears off her face and without giving a response, she managed to get up from the ground, groaning in pain as she did so.

“Are you sure you can walk on your own?”

Lyra acted as though he wasn’t standing right next to her before she dragged her feet, tottering and Fenrir followed behind her.

“You haven’t told me your…your name?”

Lyra looked over her shoulder and then back ahead.

“You know, if you’d not said a word earlier, I’d have concluded you were a mute,”

“What do you want from me?” her voice was low, almost blending with the crunchy sound of the dried leaves.

“I mean, we can start with your name,”

Lyra stopped walking and Fenrir almost bumped into her.

“Were you sent by Cedric?” her look had hardened and she had clenched her jaw.

“I think we need to calm down here,”

“Were you sent by Cedric, I ask!!!” Lyra yelled at the top of her voice.

“No!!” Fenrir yelled back. “No,” this time, his voice came out softer than before. “I wasn’t sent by anyone. I just…” his voice broke and the look on his face was solemn. “I just wanted to help you. Was that bad of me to do?”

“You killed three men. How is that helping me? Just leave me be!” she turned back around and continued to drag her foot, squeezing her face out of pain.

“They were going to kill you instead,”

“Well, you shouldn’t have stopped them,”

“Hold on,” Fenrir held her by her wrist and blew a rasping breath before he continued. “Not a thank you?”

Lyra yanked her wrist off his grip and scoffed before she turned back around and continued dragging her foot.

“I was going to yank the dagger away from him anyway. I was going to kick him in his balls and make him learn the biggest lesson. You’re just as well a killer as they are and…” Fenrir interrupted her blabbing by pulling her against his chest.

Fenrir enclosed her petite body in his huge arms with her chest grazing his.

Lyra lifted her face and with utmost shock, she stared into his eyes with all of the words roaming in her head caught up in her throat.

She transfixed her gaze from his left eye to the other, getting lost in the golden hue around his orb. It was surreal.

“You talk way too much without answering the necessary question,” Fenrir said, interrupting her trance.

She immediately blinked away, clearing her throat and pushing against his chest.

“It’s all just too much. I’m…I'm just trying to survive and it’s all… it’s all…” her voice faded off in her tears. She looked pitiful but Fenrir felt more than pity for her.

They were in the same shoes.

“Drowning in tears doesn’t look good on you, Jenna,”

“What?” Lyra asked, sniffling and creasing her eyebrows.

“I assumed that was your name,”

“What? Jenna? Not a better try? Come one,” Lyra smiled, wiping her face.

Fenrir wrapped his left arm around her waist while his other hand held her shoulder to help her as they both walked.

“That was my grandmother’s name,”

“Sounds ancient too,” Lyra commended and Fenrir furrowed his brow.

“No, it doesn't,”

“It most definitely does,” Lyra giggled.

“How about Anita?”

“Oh come on. You can do better,”

“Anita sounds way better than Jenna,”

“Sounds almost the same to me,”

“Okay. Let’s hear your most entertaining name,”

“Ly…” she didn't complete her statement when a horrific look envisioned her face with terror and pain vying on her face.

Fenrir’s smile faded and was replaced with shock and he looked behind her, glaring at the arrow piercing her back.

“No!!!” he screamed as he knelt on the ground, placing Lyra’s body on his folded thighs. He looked down into her dying eyes, shaking his head.

“No, No, No!!” he said repeatedly as Lyra opened her mouth to say some words but coughed out a clump of blood.

“My…my name is… Lyra,” she said in a low tone that blended with her heartbeat.

Fenrir looked around, straining his ears and sniffing, and like a flash of lightning, he moved with the speed of the wind, and in no time, he cut down the throat of several men.

Lyra’s view was starting to get blurry but she was certain of what she saw.

He was a werewolf, a monstrous one at that.

The horror that filled her cold body pushed her to slip away gradually but Fenrir picked her off the ground, soaked in blood from another’s throat.

“Please…do not kill me,”