Where Soft Light Shines Darkness Fades From Tired Hearts by Evan Holt Crane 390
Third Person’s POV
“Alpha Alistair?” Trista whispered, pushing the door open.
Finished
In the dark, a powerful hand clamped over her mouth and shoved her into a narrow cabinet under the desk.
Sensing it was Alistair, she didn’t fight back. She huddled in the tiny space, barely breathing.
It hit her then: Shadowfang had been infiltrated by rogues.
Minutes later, flashlights cut through the gloom.
The floor–to–ceiling windows shattered into dust, and the door was kicked in.
A pack of rogues, reeking of decay, snarled as they lunged at Alistair. He was still in his wheelchair, with only Abbott by his side.
Through the slit in the cabinet door, Trista saw several razor–sharp claws swinging toward Alistair’s head.
Something in her snapped. She burst out of the cabinet and shoved the wheelchair with everything she had, sending Alistair gliding across the room.
Two rogues turned, their eyes glowing a bloodthirsty red. They let out a guttural growl and lunged for her instead.
Trista ducked under the desk, terrified.
At that exact second, Cassian’s aura slammed into the room like a thunderclap.
He shifted partially mid–air, his claws extending as he tore through the lead rogue’s throat.
Trista didn’t waste a second. she shoved Cassian toward the fight and screamed, “Go! Save Alistair!”
Cassian didn’t even get a chance to ask if she was okay before she practically threw him into the chaos.
In a situation like this, there was no time to think–his combat instincts took over.
The study turned into a bloodbath.
The room was a mess of snarls and the sickening smell of rotting rogue pheromones.
Alistair and Cassian were boxed in, the two high–tier Alphas fighting back–to–back in a brutal melee.
Then, Trista did something crazy.
She ran back into the fray, shielding Alistair with her own body.
Out of the corner of his eye, Cassian saw her trying to take a hit from a rogue’s claws. His blood went cold.
2:07 pm DDYD
Finished
He let out a desperate roar and forced himself to pivot, canceling his own attack mid–swing to throw himself over her back.
It was a total rookie move–leaving his own back wide open.
Trista heard a sickening thud behind her–the sound of steel cutting through meat and hitting bone.
Two rogues had driven their poisoned blades deep into Cassian’s waist and shoulder.
Even so, he didn’t budge. He stayed there like a stone wall, protecting her.
Gritting his teeth against the searing pain, Cassian gripped Alistair’s shoulder, signaling him. “Your targets are surrounded. Leave!”
Alistair’s eyes, deep as an abyss, turned cold. He gave Abbott a slight nod.
Abbott let out a sharp, piercing whistle, and the entire packhouse flooded with light. The guards who had “vanished” earlier
came crashing through the windows, their superior numbers and firepower quickly ending the remaining rogues.
Trista finally realized what was happening–Alistair had used himself as bait. This was a setup, a calculated purge of his enemies.
“Sorry, Alpha Alistair,” she said, feeling a bit foolish. “I didn’t realize you had a plan.”
If she’d known he was in control, she never would have interfered with his tactics.
Alistair looked at her disheveled state and gave her a rare, approving look. “You’ve got guts, kid. But next time, try to be a bit smarter about it.”
Trista nodded quickly, her hair a mess, and reached out to check on him. “Are you sure you aren’t hurt?”
Before she could finish, a blood–soaked hand yanked her back.
Cassian was pale, sweating from the pain, his eyes shot through with red. “I’m bleeding out right here, and you’re checking on him?”
Trista looked at Cassian’s shredded suit.
Blood had soaked his shirt and was dripping from his fingertips onto the rug.
The air was thick with the heavy scent of a wounded Alpha.
She looked at the carnage, then back at him, her voice completely flat. “Relax. You aren’t going to die.
That casual indifference hit Cassian harder than any blade.
He stared at her in disbelief, the blood loss finally catching up to him. He dropped to one knee with a heavy thud.
He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Trista had risked her life for a man she barely knew, but for him? For the man who just took two blades for her? She didn’t give a damnn.
2:07 pm DDYD
That feeling of being totally discarded hurt more than the wounds in his back.
Abbott stepped over the bodies. “Alpha Alistair, the trash is cleared out.”
0:།
Finished
Alistair nodded tonelessly. “Get Alpha Cassian to a medic.”
。
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Sara Lili
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.