Alpha Among Shadows

The city never slept, but tonight its rhythm felt muted. From the rooftop of the Cross Industries safe house, Ethan stared out at the glowing skyline, his sharp features cast in silver light. The distant hum of traffic and the occasional siren were a stark contrast to the blood-soaked chaos of the forest hours earlier.

But his wolf was restless.

The beast paced inside him, clawing at his control, driven not just by the attack but by something deeper—something elusive. That scent. That woman.

"Alpha."

Ethan turned, his expression unreadable as Marcus stepped onto the rooftop. The beta carried the weight of exhaustion, his dark eyes betraying the toll the night had taken.

"The team's regrouped," Marcus said. "Patrols are doubled on all perimeters, and the wounded are stable."

Ethan nodded. "What about the prisoners?"

"No change. The talkative one is clinging to his story. The other…" Marcus paused, his lips pressing into a thin line. "He didn't make it."

Ethan's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. The rogues weren't just reckless—they were expendable. Whoever was behind this had no qualms about sacrificing pawns.

"There's something else," Marcus continued. "I sent scouts to track the rogues' trail. They found traces of movement heading west, deeper into the city."

"Into the city?" Ethan frowned. That wasn't typical rogue behavior. Wolves didn't thrive in the chaos of urban life; their instincts craved the freedom of the wild.

"Yes," Marcus said. "And there's a pattern. The marks—those symbols—they're leading somewhere. It's like breadcrumbs."

Ethan's gaze sharpened. "A trap."

Marcus nodded. "Most likely. But there's a chance it could lead us to whoever's orchestrating this."

Ethan was silent for a moment, his mind calculating. Every instinct warned him to tread carefully, but the attack tonight wasn't just an assault—it was a declaration.

"Gather a team," he said finally. "We follow the trail. If it's a trap, we'll spring it on our terms."

The city's underbelly was a stark contrast to its glittering surface. Beneath the skyscrapers and luxury apartments lay a labyrinth of abandoned buildings, forgotten alleys, and shadows thick with secrets.

Ethan led the group, his senses heightened as they moved through the desolate streets. Marcus flanked him, along with three other warriors—each one handpicked for their skill and loyalty.

The air was thick with the scent of oil and decay, but beneath it, faint and tantalizing, was something else.

Lavender.

Ethan's steps faltered for a split second before he regained his composure. The scent was faint, almost imperceptible, but it cut through the urban grime like a blade.

"She's been here," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

"Who?" Marcus asked, his tone cautious.

Ethan didn't answer.

The trail led them to an abandoned warehouse on the edge of the industrial district. Its windows were shattered, and rust streaked its metal walls like dried blood.

"Stay alert," Ethan ordered as they approached the entrance.

The warriors fanned out, their movements silent and precise. Marcus moved to the door, pushing it open with a quiet creak.

Inside, the air was damp and cold, carrying the faint metallic tang of old machinery. The floor was littered with debris—broken crates, shards of glass, and twisted scraps of metal.

But it was the mark on the far wall that drew their attention.

The same jagged circle with an arrow, this time painted in dark red.

"Blood," Marcus said, crouching beside the symbol. He touched it lightly, then sniffed his fingers. "Fresh."

Ethan's wolf growled in his chest, his instincts screaming a warning. This place reeked of a trap.

"Check the perimeter," he ordered. "Look for anything unusual."

The warriors spread out, their sharp eyes scanning every shadow. Ethan remained near the mark, his gaze narrowing as he studied it.

There was something off about this one. It wasn't just a warning—it was charged with energy, a subtle hum that resonated in his bones.

Magic.

A sudden noise shattered the silence—a low, echoing growl that sent every nerve in Ethan's body on edge.

"They're here!" one of the warriors shouted.

The room erupted into chaos. Figures emerged from the shadows, their movements impossibly fast. Rogues, their eyes glowing with that same unnatural red light.

Ethan shifted instantly, his claws extending as his wolf surged forward. He met the first attacker head-on, slashing through its throat with deadly precision.

The air filled with the sounds of snarls and the clash of claws against steel. The rogues were wild and relentless, but Ethan's pack fought with discipline and strength.

But even as he tore through the attackers, Ethan's focus was elsewhere. The scent of lavender was stronger now, wrapping around him like a ghost.

And then he saw her.

She stood on the upper level of the warehouse, her figure half-hidden in the shadows. Her dark hair framed a face that was both striking and haunting, her eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.

Ethan froze, his wolf growling low in his chest.

The woman tilted her head, her lips curling into a faint smile. It wasn't an expression of kindness—it was a challenge.

Before he could move, she turned and disappeared into the darkness.

"Marcus!" Ethan shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos.

Marcus appeared at his side, blood streaking his face. "What is it?"

"Up there," Ethan said, pointing to the upper level. "She's here."

Marcus's eyes widened. "The woman from the forest?"

Ethan didn't answer. He was already moving, his wolf driving him forward.

The upper level of the warehouse was a maze of catwalks and rusted machinery. Ethan moved swiftly, his senses locked onto the faint traces of her presence.

But she was gone.

Instead, he found another mark, smaller this time, etched into the floor with the same glowing energy.

A faint laugh echoed through the space, soft and mocking.

Ethan's claws extended, his wolf snarling in frustration. "Who are you?" he growled, his voice carrying through the empty room.

There was no answer, only silence.

By the time he rejoined Marcus and the others, the rogues were defeated, their bodies lying in broken heaps on the warehouse floor.

"What happened up there?" Marcus asked.

Ethan's expression was grim. "She's playing a game. But we'll find her."

Marcus hesitated. "Are you sure this is worth pursuing? We don't even know who she is or what she wants."

Ethan's gaze hardened. "She knows something. About the attacks, the mark… all of it. She's not just a player in this—she's part of the design."

Marcus nodded, though his unease was clear.

As they left the warehouse, Ethan's mind raced. The woman's presence wasn't just a distraction—it was a clue. And no matter how far she ran, he would find her.

Because this wasn't just a battle for his pack or his territory.

It was personal.