Chapter 5

Elara Vance's POV:

The agony in my arm was a living thing, a fire that consumed my senses. But through the haze of pain, a primal instinct took over. I was a cornered animal, and I would fight back with whatever I had left.

As Ryker stood over me, his face a mask of rage, I lunged forward. I clamped my teeth down on the forearm of the hand that had injured me, sinking them in as deep as I could.

The coppery taste of his blood filled my mouth.

He howled in pain and fury, his arm reflexively jerking back, releasing me. But his shock quickly turned to renewed violence. With his other hand, he shoved me violently away.

I flew backward, my body limp and uncoordinated. I landed hard on the unforgiving ground, the back of my head cracking against a stone in the driveway. The world exploded in a flash of white, then swam in a nauseating blur.

"Ryker, are you okay?" Seraphina shrieked, rushing to his side, cradling his bleeding arm as if he were the victim.

Ignoring her, Ryker stalked toward me, his face murderous. He was going to finish what he started. Leo tried to block his path again, but Ryker was a man possessed, his Alpha strength fueled by pure rage.

The crowd shrank back, no one daring to intervene. I lay on the ground, helpless, my vision tunneling. I saw him raise his fist, a final, brutal blow about to descend.

"ENOUGH!"

The word was not shouted. It was a physical force, a thunderclap of absolute power that slammed into everyone present. It was accompanied by a wave of pressure so immense, so dominant, that it felt like the sky itself was falling.

Alpha's Command.

Ryker's raised fist froze in mid-air. His body locked up, trembling uncontrollably as if bound by invisible chains. Every werewolf present, from Leo to the gossiping onlookers, bowed their heads in instinctual submission.

I turned my swimming gaze toward the source of the command.

Alpha King Alaric Varg stood at the edge of the crowd. He had returned. His face was a thundercloud, his stormy eyes promising a hurricane of retribution. Behind him, a full squad of his Royal Guard fanned out, their presence turning the suburban street into a military zone.

He strode forward, each step deliberate and heavy, parting the crowd like a ship through water. He didn't look at anyone but the frozen form of Ryker Stone.

He stopped beside me, his gaze dropping for a single second to my mangled arm and the blood trickling from my lip. Then his eyes, now as cold and hard as chips of ice, snapped back to Ryker.

"In my territory," Alaric began, his voice dangerously quiet, "in the presence of my emissary, you openly assault an unconvicted supplicant."

He didn't mention the mate bond, the lies, or the drama. He was a king, a judge, and he was focused only on the crime he had witnessed with his own eyes. It was a brilliant, unassailable position.

"Ryker Stone," Alaric said, and the words were a death sentence. "You are under arrest. For assault, and for defying an Alpha's order."

The color drained from Ryker's face. The Alpha's Command had faded, but he was still locked in place by fear. "Alpha King, she attacked me first! She's a liar!"

"I saw the fist you were about to throw," Alaric cut him off, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Two guards moved in, clamping heavy cuffs onto Ryker's wrists. I could see the faint glint of silver in the metal, designed to suppress a werewolf's strength. He didn't dare resist as they hauled him away, but his eyes, full of venom, were locked on me.

"King Alaric, please," Seraphina started, her voice trembling.

Alaric shot her a look so cold it froze the words in her throat.

His attention returned to me. He knelt, his large frame casting a shadow over my broken form. His scent, that clean, powerful smell of a storm, enveloped me. Strangely, it calmed the frantic panic of my wolf.

He reached out, his fingers gently brushing my forehead. His touch was surprisingly careful.

"Get her to the pack doctor," he commanded Leo. "The best care, the best medicine. See to it."