Into the Alpha’s Keep Chapter 118: 118

The air was thick with a stench so pungent and sour it clawed at my senses, a rancid blend of decay and decomposition that hung like a shroud. It seeped into every breath, coating my tongue with the taste of rot—blood, bile, and the festering remnants of death.

She held Hunter’s intestines in her hands, the glistening, soft strands slick and pliable, slipping between her fingers as they stained her skin. Crimson blood mingled with slimy intestinal mucus and clumps of undigested food, a grotesque smear that dripped onto the ground as she worked.

With a deliberate, almost ritualistic motion, she wound them twice around Hunter’s neck, the wet coils tightening against his trembling flesh.

He spasmed beneath her grip, his mouth gaping as he spat blood, dark and frothy, onto the cold earth.

She released her hold on his neck only to yank the intestines harder, pulling the makeshift noose taut. Hunter’s legs buckled, his body collapsing under its own weight, hitting the ground with a dull thud that reverberated through the silence.

His knees sank into the dirt, his frame shuddering as the life was squeezed from him.

I couldn’t bear it any longer—the sight, the smell, the sheer horror of it all. I twisted to the side, my stomach lurching violently as I tried to vomit, but nothing came.

My gut was hollow, emptied by days of torment, and the dry heaves wracked me, a sharp pain twisting through my abdomen.

I collapsed into Andrei’s arms, his solid warmth a lifeline as I gasped through my mouth, desperate to avoid inhaling the putrid air that clung to the scene.

Hunter choked, a wet, gurgling sound escaping his throat as blood bubbled past his lips. His hands clawed at the intestines encircling his neck, fingers slipping in the slick mess as he fought for breath, each gasp a frantic, fading plea.

Fenrir loomed above him, his boot pressing down on Hunter’s stomach with a slow, deliberate force, pinning him like prey beneath a predator’s paw.

His golden eyes glinted in the dim light, cold and unyielding, as he watched every fleeting reaction ripple across Hunter’s contorted face—the widening eyes, the twitching jaw, the desperation giving way to resignation.

Fenrir studied him, a silent judge bearing witness to the life draining away, drop by crimson drop.

Then, with one final, eerily peaceful sigh, Hunter stilled. His pupils dilated, expanding into black voids that swallowed the last glimmers of light in his eyes, their shine extinguished forever.

Dead.

The Alpha of the Eclipse packn was finally dead.

A shuddering breath escaped me, it carried relief, a weight lifting from my chest like chains unshackled.

I felt free—truly, achingly free—liberated from his relentless presence, from the dark specter that had hunted me through every waking moment and haunted my dreams. The air, foul as it was, tasted of release.

Fenrir released the intestines, the putrid coils slumping to the ground with a wet slap.

He crouched over Hunter’s lifeless form, his hands hovering for a moment before wiping them clean on the dead man’s pants, streaks of blood and filth smearing across the fabric.

He stared down at him, his gaze lingering as if to etch the certainty of death into his mind, to confirm that this nightmare had truly ended.

There was no possibility of the Eclipse Alpha surviving all the injuries he had suffered; not even his wolf genes could handle them.

Fenrir stood up, and in the blink of an eye, was in front of me, looking me up and down, his expression showing concern.

“You're weak.” It wasn't a question; it was an obvious observation, something he could feel through our bond.

A broken sigh separated our lips at the same time.

“I need... I need you to bring me the bowl of blood on the table.”

He furrowed his brows.

“Why?”

I raised my hand and touched his face, running my fingertips over the soft skin, memorizing his features, sculpting them in my mind.

“It’s the blood of an innocent, the missing piece to complete the ritual. I’m dying, Fenrir. I can’t and won’t drag you down with me. Dăneşti needs you, they need their leader.”

He shook his head, and tears illuminated his blue eyes.

“Never, Savannah! Never.”

I nodded, silently pleading.

“Please, complete the ritual. Live, Fenrir.” He couldn’t, he didn’t need to die. So many people depended on him, counted on him. “I’m sorry,” I sighed, tears running down the corners of my eyes.

I wouldn’t tell him about our bond, nor about the pup. Fenrir had been hurt too much by Catalina’s death; he didn’t need to live the rest of his days blaming himself for mine as well.

He pulled me from Andrei’s arms, cradling me in his own.

“Listen well, little wolf. There is no way you can force me to do any ritual!” he spat, in a determined tone. “If you die, I will die too. Do you understand?”

I sobbed, crying even more.

I mourned for him; for me; for our pup; for us.

It was beyond the two of us, it was about an entire pack, about wolves who depended on him and counted on him.

“Please, Fenrir. Give me the pup's blood. Let’s sever this bond. You need to survive, you need to stay alive for everyone in Dăneşti.”

He held my head with both hands, forcing me to look at him.

“There’s no way I can live without you, little wolf.” He let out a heavy sigh. “I can feel your body weakening, life slipping away. If you die, then I will die too.”

Why was he doing this? Why couldn’t he accept our reality?

He took my arm and brought my fist to his lips, licking the wound that was slowly healing. His eyes roamed over my body, rubbing his tongue over every crack, every small bruise covering my skin.

He lifted me in his arms, holding me against his warm, muscular body.

“Listen here, I will never perform any ritual to remove our mark. We are one, and we will remain so. If you die, I will die gladly too.”

I snuggled against him, inhaling his scent of fresh pine and damp earth, the aroma that calmed me and made me feel at home.

“You can’t die,” I protested.

“And neither can you! There is no life without you, not for me.”

I took a deep breath, feeling more and more tired, exhausted, and ready to sleep. I blinked and kept my eyes closed.

“This is so unfair,” I sighed.

“Listen well, little wolf. You need to fight, you need to deal with the exhaustion. You need to survive.”

I opened my eyes and stared at Andrei. He walked over to the she-wolf and snapped her neck, killing her coldly as I had asked, before coming closer to us.

“What are you going to do?” our friend asked.

“I’m going to take her home, to heal her.”

Andrei furrowed his brow.

“You won’t make it in time.”

Fenrir tightened his arms around me.

“Yes, I will.” He planted a kiss on my forehead. “I won’t stop, little wolf. Not until we’re home, until you’re safe and healed. Live, for me, for us. Fight, just as I will.”

I blinked again, my eyelids dragging slowly.

“I promise I’ll try,” I whispered, weakened.

“It’s days of travel.” I heard Andrei’s voice, but it seemed too distant.

Everything was dark, only then did I notice that I had closed my eyes.

“Don’t follow me, you won’t be able to keep up with my pace.”

“It’s madness, Fenrir. As she weakens, you will weaken too. Perform the ritual to sever the bond, and then run to save her life.”

Their conversation was just a distant hum.

“We are one, a single soul,” Fenrir growled. “We will survive, we will hold on and get through this together.”

Andrei made a noise in his throat.

“I hope this works, I can’t lose two more friends.”

I tried to stay conscious, to listen to what they had to say, but the darkness reached me before I could fight anymore.