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Dragon Fleet
Chapter 32: The Alpha’s Last Mercy

Chapter 32: The Alpha’s Last Mercy

Radio chatter exploded in my headset, a cacophony of panic and orders overlapping as the battlefront splintered. The enemy was flanking us. I could feel it in every frantic call from units desperately trying to hold the I-80 line. Swearing under my breath, I jumped to the fleet channel and barked orders.

“77th, split your tanks! Half of you need to cover our flank now!” The rest of Dragon Fleet and Cameron’s unit scrambled to get the portable shield units online, but we needed cover—and fast.

Before I could say more, Stoneclaw yanked me to the ground, the gravel biting into my hands and knees as gunfire erupted around us. He, along with others from the fleet, laid down a curtain of suppressive fire. Our tanks rolled into position, rumbling like angry gods, just as the Hell Hounds and Cross hit our rear line. The tanks' booming firepower stopped the vehicles in their tracks, sending chunks of metal and shattered bodies flying—but that didn’t stop the enemy from dismounting. No, they came charging like feral beasts.

And to my horror, some of them were. Wolves. Real fucking wolves.

My stomach twisted as I realized who they were—Marcus Cross’ pack. The ones who were supposed to be wiped out by the NAWC. Excommunicated, destroyed… Yet here they were. My mind raced. The Cross pack was running with the Hell Hounds and Chinese soldiers?

“What the actual hell…?” I muttered, unable to process the chaotic web of alliances we were up against. Betrayal didn’t even cover it.

A body hit the ground beside me with a heavy thud, snapping me from my spiraling thoughts. I turned to find Jake, wide-eyed and pale, looking at the enemy with a mix of rage and disbelief. He whipped his head toward me, his voice sharp and accusing.

“What the hell is the Cross pack doing here? And why the hell are they fighting with the enemy?!”

I bit my inner cheek, guilt gnawing at me. This was not the time for full-blown revelations. Kira and I hadn’t told him everything about Baltimore—hadn’t told anyone, really. But this… this was bigger than I could have ever imagined.

“Marcus Cross has been working with the Chinese, stealing research from the Free States government. His pack was supposed to be disbanded, but…” I trailed off, my voice flat. There was no good way to explain this mess. Not now.

“How the hell would you know that?” Jake demanded, fury brewing in his voice as he fired off a round.

Stoneclaw, cool as ever, answered for me while dropping another enemy. “Lyra and Kira infiltrated the Cross pack when they went to Aberdeen Proving Grounds. For Lord Lyconotu.”

Jake’s growl sent a shudder through me. His anger was tangible, pulsing in the air between us. He snapped his head toward me, eyes blazing with betrayal, but I held his gaze.

“Now is not the time,” I ground out, forcing authority into my voice. “We’ll deal with this later.”

Jake bared his teeth, snarling, before jumping to his feet and charging headlong into the oncoming enemy.

“Jake! Get back here!” I roared, but he was already gone.

Without hesitation, Stoneclaw bolted after him. “I’ll go get him!”

I watched them disappear into the chaos, my mind briefly stuttering under the weight of it all. For a moment, everything slowed. My senses dulled as the familiar roar of combat filled my ears—machine guns rattling, the thunderous booms of tanks, the hiss and crack of rounds snapping through the air. It all blended together, a surreal symphony of destruction that brought memories of the Second Twilight Winter flooding back.

What the hell was I doing here? Leading my pack into a deathtrap, trying to hold the line against forces we couldn’t comprehend?

A sharp buzz filled my head, growing louder as the battle intensified. Rounds zipped past, kicking up dirt and debris. Voices shouted in my ear, but I couldn’t make out the words. Everything around me was chaos.

I turned my head, barely processing the sight of Seth and Sasha, their faces grim as they laid down fire. On my other side, the dragons pushed forward, leading our pack and the soldiers with unwavering determination.

But my focus drifted. Why had everything come to this? Why did it feel like I was losing control—not just of the battle, but of everything?

The buzzing grew louder, drowning out the chaos around me. Someone was screaming in my ears, but I couldn’t focus. I lay there, trying to make sense of it all. The enemy was closing in, and I was useless, my rifle heavy in my hands, my fingers numb and unresponsive. My vision blurred, the edges of the world smearing together as panic set in.

Flashes of the last major battle flooded my mind—the smell of blood and gore, the screams of pain, the sight of my comrades torn apart. Genetically enhanced vampires had shredded through our lines, and the Night Guardians had fallen one by one, their howls of agony still haunting me. My breathing quickened, my body trembled, and I felt myself slipping back into that nightmare.

Then, something slammed into me, knocking me onto my back. Instinct took over. I raised my rifle, finger on the trigger, but stopped. A small white wolf sat on my chest, staring me down. Its jaws parted, and Catalina’s voice broke through the fog in my mind.

“Lyra! I’ve been trying to reach you on the radio!”

“Huh… What?” I blinked, disoriented, the battle around me slowly coming back into focus.

“Is your headset not working?” Catalina’s wolfish face was etched with concern.

Suddenly, the cacophony of voices from my headset filled my ears. “It’s working… Sorry…” I muttered, trying to pull myself together.

“Good. Colonel Sirus and his unit are under direct attack. They need help, now!” Catalina’s urgency snapped me out of my haze.

I sat up, keeping low to the ground as Catalina jumped off me and pointed her nose toward the Colonel’s position. My stomach lurched at what I saw. Marcus Cross and the Hell Hounds were cutting through the ranks, making a beeline for the tanks. They had split from the main force, and Colonel Sirus, alongside his soldiers, was fighting for his life, pinned down while laying down suppressive fire.

Without thinking, I shot to my feet and sprinted toward the tank unit. The problem was, they were nearly 300 yards away, and I wasn’t fast enough. Barking orders into my headset, I called for backup, pushing my body to shift. My legs lengthened, muscles bulging as fur sprouted along my arms, giving me a much-needed boost of speed. Even then, I knew I was too far.

I watched in horror as Marcus leaped over a group of soldiers, shifting mid-air and slamming into Colonel Sirus. I pushed harder, my uniform tearing apart as my full shift took hold. Ducking and weaving through the battlefield, bullets whizzed past, and the ground exploded from a nearby grenade. But my focus remained locked on the fight.

Marcus had the Colonel by the throat, lifting him off the ground with ease. The growl that emanated from Marcus sent a chill through me. Then, with a snarl, Marcus flung Colonel Sirus like a ragdoll. The Colonel crashed into the side of a tank with a sickening thud, crumpling to the ground. But, against all odds, he was still alive. Barely.

Marcus stalked toward him, murder in his eyes, his clawed hand raised to finish the job. I wasn’t going to make it. I could see the deadly arc of his arm, the certainty of the Colonel’s impending death.

A growl—deep, guttural, and filled with fury that sounded like a tortured demon—ripped through the air, rumbling like distant thunder. Nature itself seemed to tremble as a massive black shape barreled into Marcus, sending him flying backward. He hit the ground hard, and I skidded to a stop, breathless, watching as the figure stood over the Colonel.

It was a huge black werejaguar, crouched protectively in front of Colonel Sirus. Parts of an F.S. Army uniform hung from its muscular frame, the rank of Command Sergeant Major barely visible on a tattered patch that dangled from its neck.

The jaguar let out a furious roar, the sound reverberating through my bones. I felt the hair on my neck prickle with an instinctive dread, the kind that came when you knew death was breathing down your neck. Its tail lashed wildly, a silent promise of the violence to come. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Colonel Sirus’s face drain of color as the truth dawned on him—his Command Sergeant Major, the one who had just thrown herself between him and certain death, wasn’t just human. He was something else.

Marcus eyed the jaguar like a cornered animal. His face betrayed a flicker of something—doubt, fear, or maybe it was just the weight of knowing his next move might be his last. Slowly, calculatingly, he rose to his feet. Just as he did, a blur of grey slammed into him. Kira. His own daughter.

She sank her teeth into his arm with the kind of ferocity that only comes from a lifetime of betrayal. She thrashed, her head whipping side to side like she was trying to tear apart every painful memory tied to him. Marcus roared, a sound thick with agony and rage, and drove her into the ground. She yelped—a sound that cut through me like a blade. For a moment, I hesitated. But only for a moment.

I slid to a stop as Kira staggered back to her feet, locking eyes with the father she once trusted. The tension between them was more than just a physical fight—it was years of broken promises, of betrayal simmering just below the surface. She wasn’t just fighting for survival—she was fighting for herself. But Marcus, he wasn’t done. With a vicious growl, he charged her again, like he still had some control over her, like he could break her down the way he had once before.

Before he could reach her, a third wolf—Jake—crashed into Marcus, taking out his legs and sending him sprawling face-first into the dirt. Jake came to a stop beside me, breath heavy, heart heavier. Kira joined us, her fingers finding Jake’s, but her eyes never leaving Marcus. There was a history there, a silent pain that bound them all together—one that Marcus exploited every chance he got.

Marcus, battered but unbroken, climbed to his feet once more. His eyes swept over the three of us, and I saw it—the arrogance. The way he still believed he could bend us to his will. “You think this is over? Think again. You’re trapped.”

Jake and Kira snarled, their hatred for him barely contained. But I held back, letting my silence speak for me. It was the quiet that got to him—he hated not being in control, hated not being the one with all the answers.

Marcus chuckled, stepping forward. “Oh, Alpha Acosta. That arrogance of yours. You think you’re better than me. But you’re just like your father.”

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At the mention of my father, a snarl ripped from my throat, more instinct than anything else. My father. The one man I had sworn I’d never be like, and yet Marcus—Marcus—had the gall to compare us. But that’s what he did, didn’t he? Dug into old wounds, reopened scars I’d tried so hard to forget.

“There it is,” Marcus said, voice dripping with satisfaction. “The real Acosta bloodline. Ruthless. Broken. Attack dogs for the royal bloodline. And soon enough, your pathetic legacy will fall, just like the rest of them.”

Kira scoffed, her voice thick with disgust. “Do you hear yourself? You’ve lost your damn mind. You’re not strong enough to take on Lord Lyconotu. He’ll tear you apart.”

But Marcus just laughed. “That brat won’t stand a chance—not when I have you, Jake, and the Acosta bitch. I have you cornered. You’ve got nowhere to run. Surrender, or I’ll slaughter your entire pack.”

I felt a slow, boiling rage rising up inside me, but I kept my expression calm, tilting my head in a way that sent him a silent message: We are not afraid of you. “What makes you think you can win, Marcus? You’re no longer an alpha. No one worth anything would follow you now.”

But he didn’t care. He was too far gone. “You think that matters? All I have to do is kill you, and the pack is mine. Basic rules, Acosta. Step down, give me control, and I’ll spare them. Hell, I’ll even make them my personal guard while you—" he smiled, that twisted, vile smile of his—“become my enforcer. Imagine that. The great Alpha Acosta reduced to my lapdog. With the three of you under my control, I’ll be untouchable.”

Kira and Jake snarled at the same time, voices filled with venom. “We’d rather die than serve you.”

Marcus sighed, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. “The colonel should’ve done his job. The two of you should have killed him, and none of this would’ve happened. You’d be locked up, your pack would be disbanded, and I’d be sitting pretty on top of the ashes.”

Hearing Marcus’s smug words shot a spike of rage through me so sharp it left me breathless. I hadn’t felt this kind of anger in a long time—raw, uncontrollable, like fire licking at the edges of my vision. My blood pounded in my ears, and the world around me tinted red as I locked my gaze on him. He was grinning, that condescending, arrogant grin of a wolf who thought he still had all the power. I stepped forward, my muscles tensing as I issued the challenge through clenched teeth. “I will kill you.”

“Have it your way, Alpha Acosta,” he sneered, taking a step forward, his eyes gleaming with mockery.

“No, Lyra! Don’t!” Kira’s voice trembled as she grabbed my arm, her fingers tight with desperation. There was fear in her eyes—fear that this fight would tear me apart, fear of what it meant to face down a man like Marcus. But I couldn’t stop. I snapped my gaze at her, growling low, the challenge already set in stone. There was no going back.

That brief moment of distraction was all Marcus needed. He moved faster than I anticipated, a blur of motion before his claws slammed into the side of my head. The force sent me reeling, stumbling sideways as the taste of blood flooded my mouth. Pain radiated from the claw marks raked across my face, but that wasn’t what made my stomach twist—it was the realization that Marcus wasn’t going to play by the rules. He never did. He was going to tear me apart however he could, and I couldn’t afford to forget that.

Blood trickled down my face, hot and thick, nearly blinding me as it pooled around my eye. Wiping the blood away with the back of my hand, I flicked it toward him in silent acknowledgment—he had drawn first blood, but this was far from over. We began to circle each other slowly, the sounds of the battlefield fading into the background. It was just the two of us now. No pack. No allies. Just a history of hate that had to be settled.

As we circled, Marcus opened his mouth again, his voice dripping with contempt. “Face it, Acosta. You’re not going to win. Your so-called king isn’t here to save you like he did when your father was alive. You’re alone. Fighting a war that was never yours to begin with—a war your king dragged you into when he meddled where he didn’t belong.”

I let out a laugh, bitter and sharp. Something inside me finally snapped. “For Luna’s sake, Marcus, you are the dumbest wolf I’ve ever met. Do you really think the Chinese are going to let you rule over the wolves? You’re a pawn, Marcus. A gnat. The second you’re not useful to them anymore, they’ll kill you without a second thought. But you’re too blind, too arrogant to see it. You call yourself an alpha, but you’re nothing more than a fowl.”

For a moment, Marcus’s grin faltered. I saw the crack in his armor, the doubt flashing behind his eyes. But it didn’t last. His face twisted with rage, and he lunged at me, a vicious snarl tearing from his throat. I met him halfway, our bodies slamming together with the force of a hurricane. My bulk shoved him back a few feet, but to my surprise, he was stronger than he looked—strong enough to match me, despite being smaller. He used his height to his advantage, snapping at my throat, trying to end this with a quick kill.

But I turned my shoulder into him, feeling his teeth sink into the muscle instead of my neck. The pain was searing, radiating down my arm as his jaws clamped down. I roared, the sound echoing through the battlefield, and slammed my fist into his gut with every ounce of strength I had. His teeth tore free as he doubled over, a grunt of pain escaping him.

Seeing my chance, I brought my hand down hard on his head, the sickening crunch of his nose breaking beneath my fist. He crumpled to the ground, blood pouring from his face. For a moment, I thought it was over. I stepped back, breathing heavily, the taste of copper still thick on my tongue. “Yield, Marcus.”

For a second, he lay there, unmoving. But just as I let myself believe he’d finally surrender, he shot up with a burst of energy, throwing himself at me with reckless abandon. I wasn’t fast enough. His body collided with mine, and I went down hard, the breath knocked from my lungs as I hit the ground.

Before I could react, his fists—both his good hand and the one I had already damaged—came down on my head. The first blow sent stars exploding across my vision, blood filling my mouth from the force of the impact. I barely managed to raise my arms in time for the second strike, my bones groaning under the pressure.

The pain shot through me like fire, but it wasn’t just physical. The blow brought back memories I had fought to bury—memories of my father’s fists, of the punishments that had left me broken and bleeding. Marcus’s face blurred with my father’s for a split second, and something in me snapped. This wasn’t just Marcus. This was every monster I had ever faced, every tormentor who had tried to break me.

As Marcus raised his arms for a third strike, I saw the opening. His chest was exposed, unprotected. Without hesitation, I twisted my body, my claws slicing through the air with deadly precision. They tore across his chest, deep and savage, sending blood spraying across the ground. Marcus let out a howl of pain as the force of the blow sent him flying off me, crashing into the dirt.

I rolled onto all fours, every muscle in my body trembling with fury. The pain of his blows barely registered anymore—there was only the rage, burning white-hot, consuming everything in its path. I wasn’t going to let anyone hit me like that ever again. Not Marcus. Not anyone. My eyes locked on the savage wolf before me, and I turned to face him fully, letting the beast inside me rise to the surface.

The roar that tore from my throat shook the ground beneath us. It wasn’t just a sound—it was a declaration. A promise. This fight wasn’t going to end with me beaten and broken. I dug my claws deep into the earth, feeling the dirt give way under the pressure. Then, like a freight train barreling toward its target, I surged forward, unstoppable, unrelenting.

Marcus barely had time to register what was happening before I slammed into him with all the force of my fury. His claws dug into my back, trying to find purchase, but I didn’t care. My jaws clamped down on his bad arm—the same arm I had crushed once before—and I twisted. The sickening snap of bone echoed through the air as his howl of agony filled my ears, but I wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

I bit down harder, feeling the muscle and tendons tear as I thrashed my head, ripping his arm apart. His free claw tried desperately to dig into my back, to force me off him, but he was a fool if he thought that would stop me. The scales I had earned from my bond with Stoneclaw protected me, his claws barely scratching the surface.

With one final wrench, I felt his arm shear from his body, the mangled limb tearing free. I flung it aside like it was nothing, the blood spraying across the ground in an arc. Marcus let out another howl of pain, but even then, he didn’t stop. His good arm shot toward my face, claws aimed for my eyes. He managed to rake them across my cheek, adding more blood to the rivers already flowing from me.

I staggered back, yelping in pain as I put distance between us. He bled heavily from the stump of his arm, but still, he came at me, wild and desperate. His teeth sank into my thigh, a sharp, tearing pain that made me howl in agony. I felt the blood pouring from the wound, felt his teeth grinding into bone, but I couldn’t let him win. Not now. Not after everything.

I raked my claws along his flank, feeling them tear through fur, muscle, and bone. Blood poured from the gashes, but still, Marcus held on, his jaws tightening around my leg. I whimpered, the pain nearly unbearable, but I refused to be taken down.

Then I saw it—his tail. Without thinking, I whipped my head around, sinking my teeth into the thick, muscular limb. I bit down hard, feeling the bone snap beneath my jaws. Marcus let out a howl, and I wrenched my head to the side, flinging him across the battlefield. His body flew through the air before hitting the ground with a sickening thud, his tail still hanging from my mouth.

Spitting the tail out, I stalked toward him, my breath coming in ragged gasps. He writhed on the ground, howling in pain, the loss of his tail sending shockwaves through his body. The agony was unbearable for any wolf, and I knew it. It left him vulnerable—open to the final blow.

I reached him in a few short strides, rolling the once-powerful alpha onto his back. He looked up at me, pain and rage still burning in his eyes, but I could see it—the fear. The defeat.

“Submit!” I roared, my voice thick with the weight of my alpha power. I pushed it at him, forcing him to feel the strength he could never match, the dominance he had lost.

Even through the blinding pain, Marcus brushed my power away with one final act of defiance, his one remaining claw swinging at me. But I was faster. My jaws snapped shut around his hand with a sickening crunch, crushing every bone beneath my teeth. He screamed, the sound piercing the night as I twisted my head, breaking his wrist with one sharp motion. His hand fell limp, useless, at his side.

I looked down at him, at the once-great alpha who had terrorized others, who had controlled so much of those lives I care for, and I felt nothing but cold satisfaction. The rage still burned inside me, but now it had focus. Purpose.

“Lord Lycotonu isn’t my king,” I growled, leaning in close enough for him to see the truth in my eyes. “Cayro Zaraki is. Your plan was doomed from the start, Marcus. I win.”

I spat the blood from my mouth, letting it splatter across his face. He deserved no mercy, no kindness. I turned away from him, leaving him lying there, bleeding and broken. I didn’t care if he died there in the dirt or if he suffered for hours, alone and in agony. Either way, he would pay for everything he had done.

And I would never look back.

I turned toward Kira and Jake, each step a struggle as I limped my way over to them. The adrenaline was fading, and with it, the full weight of what had just happened settled into my bones. The look on their faces—Jake’s wide-eyed fear, Kira’s mix of horror and anger—told me everything I needed to know. I was a mess. Bloodied, broken, and worse yet, they had seen the full extent of my vicious heritage, the side of me I had always tried to keep hidden. Now they knew.

I barely had time to register their expressions before I saw Jake’s eyes widen in a new kind of fear, and Kira’s face twisted into something far more terrifying—rage. My body moved too slowly, still reeling from the fight, and I didn’t even feel the attack until it was too late. Pain exploded in the back of my neck, sharp and sudden, as Marcus’s teeth sank into my flesh one last time. With a violent jerk, I was flung away from them like a ragdoll.

The world spun as I hit the ground with a sickening crack. I felt—heard—the snap of bone, and then everything went numb. It was like the universe had turned the volume down, my senses dulling as the pain faded into a distant hum. I lay there, helpless, as I watched Jake and Kira descend on Marcus like feral beasts, their own fury unleashed.

I should have seen it coming. I had won the challenge—I was the victor. But in granting him mercy, I had given Marcus the opportunity to strike one final, desperate blow. He knew he was going to die, and he made sure he took me down with him. And the cruelest part? He succeeded.

From where I lay, I watched as Jake and Kira ripped into him, tearing apart the old alpha piece by piece. They didn’t hold back, didn’t pause to consider mercy like I had. The only thing that mattered to them was ensuring he could never hurt anyone again. His body was reduced to mangled remains, and the last piece to go was his head. It rolled, slowly, across the ground, coming to a stop just in front of me. His cold, eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment—just a moment—a twisted smile crept across his severed face.

Then, finally, his eyes glazed over, and the light left them forever. But I barely noticed, because darkness had already begun creeping into my own vision. My first real challenge as an alpha, my victory for my pack—it was over before it could even begin. I had won, but I hadn’t survived.

A bitter thought flickered through my mind: at least I knew they would be safe. Steve and Stoneclaw would protect them, make sure the pack carried on. Maybe that was enough. Maybe that was all I could ask for.

I saw Jake and Kira rushing toward me, their mouths moving, but the world had gone muffled, their voices lost to the growing silence in my mind. I tried to focus, tried to hold on for just a moment longer, but it was slipping away. I could feel myself unraveling.

I gave them a soft smile, or at least I tried. It was all I had left, my final way of telling them it was okay. That I had fought, and that I had done what I could. Maybe they could see it, maybe they couldn’t, but it didn’t matter now.

Closing my eyes, I let the darkness take me, the cold fingers of oblivion pulling me down, deeper and deeper, until finally, I slipped away, surrendering myself to the Great Luna.