Alpha Triplets Claim

Chapter 53.

Chapter Thirty-Six: Battle Line Drawn

Phera POV:

With the bunker’s steel door closing behind me, the urgency of the situation hit me full-force. My boots pounded against the earth as I sprinted toward the east and south borders. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, urging me to push forward despite the disapproving mental links bombarding my consciousness.

Phera, what do you think you’re doing? Get back to the bunker!’

The mental voices of my mates and my brother Nate were laced with concern, even annoyance. Zane, Axel, Damon, and Nate tried to reason with me, their words enveloping my thoughts like a thick fog.

esra dangerous, Phera. Go back!

We can’t concentrate if we’re worried about you.’

The final straw was Damon’s mental ultimatum: ‘If you don’t turn back, we’re coming to get you.’

1 clenched my fists, infuriated. Enough was enough. Channeling. every ounce of my willpower, I sent out a powerful combined mind link to all of them.

‘I am your Luna, your sister, and a warrior. Trust me as I trust you. Do not undermine me again

And with that, I threw up my mental walls, effectively blocking them out. A weight lifted off my shoulders, replaced by the sweet sensation of freedom. With a swift leap, I shifted.

As my form elongated, fur sprouting from my skin, the transition completed in a heartbeat. I was now a majestic wolf, my coat a

kaleidoscope of silver and white, resembling moonlight dancing on tranquil lake. I let out a resonating howl, a battle cry and a declation, announcing my arrival to the front lines.

The moment my paws touched the ground, I felt more in tune with my surroundings-the earth, the trees, and the impending danger. My heightened senses caught the distant scents and sounds of combat. I was close. Very close.

Then they appeared-my mates in their wolf forms. Towering. and imposing, their black coats were as dark as midnight, each standing at an intimidating seven feet. They growled low, their eyes glinting a dangerous shade of amber, betraying their human annoyance.

For a moment, we were in a standoff. Their large forms attempted to flank me, to force me back to safety. But before they could make their move, a new scent wafted through the air

-rogues.

Like a tornado of fur and fangs, a burst of rogue wolves sprang from the bushes, lunging toward us. All internal debates were forgotten, pushed aside by the immediate, palpable threat. In seamless unity, my mates and I turned to face the enemies crashing down on us like a tidal wave.

The rest turned into a battleground-a chaotic dance of wolves and humans, all fueled by primal instinct and raw power. My senses were heightened to an almost unbearable degree; the mixture of blood, earth, and sweat filled the air, both repulsive and intoxicating. The cries of battle-a cacophony of growls, roars, and human shouts echoed through the trees, punctuated by the occasional snap of bones.

I saw wolves of our pack, their coats gleaming in various shades of browns, blacks, and grays, darting through the melee. Among them were warriors in human form, their bodies adorned with hastily donned armor, swinging swords and battle-axes with deadly precision. The rogues were less organized, an unruly mob of snarling, spitting furies, but what they lacked in discipline, they made up for in sheer numbers and ferocity.

My paws dug into the soil as I leapt, jaws wide open, meeting the first rogue wolf that dared to charge at me. The crunch of bones was satisfying, a chorus to the song of battle. My fangs sank deep into the rogue’s neck, severing vital arteries. With a powerful jerk of my head, I tossed the lifeless form aside.

Almost immediately, another rogue lunged at me, this one larger, its fur a matted mess of grime and dried blood. But size

was never an indicator of skill. I dodged the initial strike, circled around, and aimed for the hind legs, tearing through muscle and bore. The rogue wolf collapsed, incapacitated, a pained yowl escaping its throat.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mates engaged in their own brutal dances. Damon, in his towering wolf form, was a whirlwind of destruction, his jaws snapping shut around a rogue wolf before tossing it aside like a ragdoll. Axel and Zane fought side by side, perfectly in sync as they cornered and took down another. Nate was not far behind, his Beta status evident in the way he coordinated a group of warriors, pushing back a cluster of rogues.