Chapter 24

Logan

The scent of blood hung thick in the air, coppery and sharp. My wolf strained at the edge of my control, barely leashed beneath the surface, as I led the Gamma unit across the battlefield. The rogues came at us with reckless abandon, snarling ferociously, but we met them with precision, discipline, and fury to match.

We had trained for this.

Every formation, every movement, every signal, we executed like a machine. My Gamma unit consisted of some of the most skilled fighters I could gather, allowing us to fight back with skill and ferocity.

The Gamma warriors fought back to back, our bond forged through years of battles and scars. Blades and claws slashed, tearing through flesh and fur. Bodies collided, bones cracked, and growls echoed through the trees. The borderlands were chaotic, but we did not bend to the rogue’s assault.

My claws tore through a rogue’s chest, and I didn’t pause to watch him fall. Another lunged from the side, and I spun, ramming my elbow into its throat before finishing it with a silver-edged dagger. Blood sprayed, splattering across my face like warm rain.

Still, I pressed forward.

My ears rang with the cries of war, but beneath it all, something gnawed at me—a sense of restlessness that hadn’t left me since Evelyn stormed away from me in the corridor the night Emma’s forwardness had angered her. No matter how many rogues I cut down, her shocked and disappointed face haunted me.

I couldn’t shake the chill of her silence. The way she looked at me as if I were already lost to her. Perhaps I had.

I didn’t blame her.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about her either. Even here, amid the slaughter.

My claws were slick, my muscles burning, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Not when my warriors needed me. Not when the border had to hold. And a part of me felt good to release some of this tension that plagued me.

A rogue lunged at me from the right. Its fur was matted with dried blood, eyes glowing with manic hunger. I spun, driving my elbow into its throat before slashing upward with a silver-edged blade. It gurgled and dropped, twitching as its blood sprayed across my boots.

I didn’t stop to watch it die.

Another came—this one faster, leaner. I ducked under its swipe and rammed my shoulder into its gut, knocking it to the ground before plunging my blade through its chest. The snarl died in its throat.

Two down.

So many more to go.

They were pouring in from the tree line like locusts—filthy, desperate, wild-eyed. This wasn’t an organized pack. It was chaos. Feral rogues with nothing to lose.

But we were trained. We were the infamous Gamma unit.

“Hold the left flank!” I bellowed, my voice raw from shouting orders. “Don’t let them circle behind!”

To my left, a young warrior from another unit—no older than eighteen—was trying to stand his ground, his hands shaking. A rogue twice his size was circling him, grinning with jagged, yellowed teeth.

The kid lunged, clumsy but brave. The rogue dodged easily and knocked him flat on his back, claws raised.

I launched myself forward without thinking, my feet digging into the slick mud as I sprinted. The rogue brought its arm down, and I tackled it mid-swipe, knocking it away from the boy. We rolled through the dirt, snapping and clawing. The rogue got a good swipe across my side, and I felt the sting, hot and deep, but adrenaline drowned out the pain.

I slammed my forehead into its nose, stunning it just long enough to drive my claws into its throat. It gurgled and went limp beneath me.

“Get up!” I barked at the boy as I stood, panting.

He scrambled to his feet, wide-eyed and pale. Blood smeared his cheek. His weapons were gone; it was just him and his claws.

“You alright?” I asked, turning to scan the chaos around us. We were exposed out here.

“I— I think so,” he stuttered, voice shaking. He looked so frightened, so young.

“You think or you know?”

He straightened, teeth clenched. “I’m good.”

“Then fight like it.”

Another rogue spotted us, this one sprinting straight at the kid.

I shoved the boy behind me and met the rogue head-on. It was fast. Too fast. We crashed together, and I went down hard, the wind knocked out of me. Its claws slashed down, grazing my jaw. I twisted, grunting, and slammed my fist into its ribs before kicking it off.

It skidded back, but it didn’t stay down.

It came again, snarling.

I gritted my teeth and waited.

When it leapt, I met it mid-air, wrapping my arms around its torso and twisting as we fell. We landed hard. I pinned it beneath me and drove my blade into its chest—once, twice, a third time for good measure.

It didn’t get up.

I spat blood and rolled off the corpse, chest heaving.

The kid stumbled toward me, eyes wide. “Sir—”

“I’m fine,” I growled, pushing to my feet.

My side was a mess of torn flesh and blood. It throbbed in time with my heartbeat, but I stayed upright.

“I— I didn’t see him coming,” the boy admitted, guilt plain in his voice. “I— I’m so sorry.”

I grabbed him by the shoulder. “You lived. You learn. Now stay in formation, and don’t lose your weapon again.”

He nodded, jaw set with new determination.

I would need to find out how someone so young had ended up on the field in the first place. Perhaps he was disobeying orders to be there and help the cause. It was certainly something I would have done at his age.

I turned back toward the heart of the battle. The rogues were thinning. Their lines were breaking.

Good.

We were pushing them back.

But this fight was far from over.

And as long as I was still breathing, I’d keep every one of my soldiers alive. Or die trying.

A cry drew my attention, and I turned my head sharply. Just beyond the ridge, past the main line of defense, healers worked frantically to tend to the fallen. And then I saw her.

Evelyn.

She knelt beside a warrior with a vicious gash along his ribs, her skilled hands working quickly to heal his wounds as best she could. Blood smeared her arms, painting her in crimson.

She did not belong here, in the midst of so much violence and gore.

Her braid had come undone, strands of hair clinging to her cheeks. Her face was pale with exhaustion, but her eyes burned with focus and fire. The soldier she was trying to heal was groaning and screaming in anguish, even as she tried her best to soothe him while she worked.

My heart stuttered.

She shouldn’t be this close to the frontline. Not where rogues could—

A snarl cut through the air, and I whipped around just in time to see a rogue break through a weak point in our formation. It barreled toward the healers, foam at its mouth, eyes locked onto Evelyn.

My breath caught.

“No!” I roared, surging forward. The boy would have to handle himself for now.

I was running, sprinting across the field as I tried to reach her. She hadn’t even raised her head yet, but I knew. I was watching. I had to protect her.

Time slowed. Every heartbeat was thunder in my ears. Evelyn didn’t see it; she was too focused on the man beneath her, too committed to saving him. The rogue closed in, claws raised. Just a few more strides and—