After My Alpha's Rejection, I Embraced Freedom

The scent of blood—my blood—had dried into my uniform as I raced through the forest before dawn. My wolf, Silver, was restless beneath my skin, her instincts sharp as we tracked the movements of the Red Claw Pack along our eastern border. They'd been encroaching for weeks, testing our defenses, looking for weakness.

"They're planning to move tonight," I whispered to Silver as I crouched behind a fallen oak, watching their scouts marking trees barely fifty yards into what should be our territory. "Three units, coming from the ravine."

*We should attack now,* Silver urged, her voice a low growl in my mind. *While they're scattered.*

I shook my head, forcing my breathing to steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me. "We need the pack. We'll report back."

The Red Claw scout lifted his head suddenly, scenting the air. I froze, pressing my body against the damp earth. Too late. He'd caught my scent.

I barely had time to shift before he was on me, his massive brown wolf lunging with teeth bared. Silver took over instinctively, our body transforming in a blur of pain and power. My bones cracked and reformed, fur erupting across my skin as I met his attack with a snarl.

His claws raked down my flank, tearing through muscle. The pain was white-hot, but Silver didn't falter. We'd been the pack's strongest warrior for seven years—this wasn't our first blood.

I caught him by the throat, my jaws clamping down until I tasted copper. He yelped, thrashing wildly, but I held firm until he went limp in submission. I released him with a warning growl, watching as he retreated with his tail tucked between his legs.

*We need to move,* Silver urged. *Others will come.*

Blood matted my silver fur as I raced back toward Silverfang territory, the intelligence I'd gathered worth every drop spilled. By the time I reached our borders, the sun was breaking over the mountains, casting long shadows through the trees.

---

"The Red Claw Pack is planning a three-pronged attack tonight," I reported, standing at attention before Ryan in the mid-morning pack meeting. My wounds had been hastily bandaged, but I could feel blood seeping through the gauze, staining my fresh uniform. "They'll come through the ravine, trying to claim the hunting grounds on the eastern ridge."

Ryan leaned forward in his Alpha chair, his dark eyes calculating. Even after seven years as his mate, the sight of him still made my heart stutter—the sharp angles of his jaw, the confident set of his shoulders. I lived for those rare moments when his gaze would soften for me, when I'd earned his approval.

"How many?" he asked, his voice carrying across the great hall where our pack members had gathered.

"At least thirty warriors, split into three units," I replied. "If we position our forces at these points—" I stepped forward, indicating locations on the territory map spread across the table, "—we can cut them off before they reach the