The Omega Who Survived the Crimson Hunt
The wind screamed through the Iron Peak Mountains like the cry of a dying god as Genevieve Sterling staggered across the frozen valley floor with blood soaking through the torn leather wrapped around her leg.
The crimson moon hung low above the jagged cliffs, staining the snow a deep murderous red.
Behind her came the heavy thunder of paws crushing ice.
The direwolves were still hunting.
Still hungry.
Still closing in.
Genevieve’s breath rattled painfully in her chest as the poison continued spreading through her veins.
Every heartbeat felt wrong.
Too fast.
Too violent.
The ignis weed burned through her blood like wildfire while the wolfsbane fought to stop her heart entirely.
Her body had become a battlefield of chemical warfare and agony.
Yet she kept moving.
Because stopping meant death.
And Genevieve Sterling had spent her entire life refusing to die quietly.
A deafening snarl exploded behind her.
She turned just as one of the remaining direwolves lunged from the darkness.
Its jaws snapped inches from her throat.
She threw herself sideways, slamming against the frozen rocks hard enough to crack bone.
Pain erupted through her shoulder.
The wolf landed where she had stood moments before, claws gouging trenches into the ice.
Saliva dripped from its massive yellow fangs as it slowly stalked toward her.
Genevieve’s fingers closed desperately around a sharp shard of obsidian buried in the snow.
The beast crouched lower preparing to spring again.
Above the valley Alpha Gideon Croft stood frozen on the balcony overlooking the hunt.
His claws dug so deeply into the stone parapet that blood streamed from his knuckles.
Every instinct inside him screamed to shift.
To leap into the valley.
To rip the direwolves apart with his bare teeth.
But the ancient laws chained him in place.
The Crimson Hunt was sacred.
If the Alpha interfered before dawn the gauntlet would shatter forever and Ashbourne would descend into civil war.
Yet none of that mattered anymore.
Because Genevieve was his mate.
The realization had struck him like lightning hours earlier in the apothecary when his fingers brushed her wounded cheek.
Since then the bond had only grown stronger.
He could feel her pain now as if it were carved directly into his own flesh.
He could feel her exhaustion.
Her terror.
Her determination.
And beneath it all he felt something else.
Rage.
Not fear.
Not surrender.
Pure furious survival.
“She’s dying.”
Percival said quietly beside him with poorly hidden satisfaction.
“No omega could ever survive this.”
Gideon’s amber eyes slowly turned toward his beta.
The temperature around them seemed to drop instantly.
Percival stiffened under the sheer murderous force radiating from the Alpha.
“If she dies tonight,” Gideon said softly, “I will feed your heart to the ravens myself.”
Percival swallowed hard but said nothing more.
Down in the valley the direwolf attacked again.
Genevieve barely managed to twist aside before its claws slashed across her ribs.
White-hot pain exploded through her body.
She screamed as blood sprayed across the snow.
The impact sent her tumbling dangerously close to the edge of a frozen ravine.
Her vision blurred.
Her limbs felt numb again.
The ignis weed was fading.
The poison was winning.
The direwolf approached slowly now sensing weakness.
Its massive body moved like a living shadow beneath the crimson moon.
Genevieve forced herself backward until her spine hit solid stone.
No escape.
No strength left.
The beast opened its jaws.
Then suddenly a howl shattered the valley.
Every wolf in Ashbourne stiffened.
The sound was ancient.
Dominant.
Terrifying.
The direwolf froze mid-step.
Genevieve looked upward toward the cliffs.
Gideon stood at the edge of the balcony with his massive frame silhouetted against the moonlight.
His eyes glowed solid amber now.
Fully wolf.
Fully Alpha.
And completely out of control.
The bond between them snapped violently into place.
Genevieve gasped as heat exploded through her chest.
Gideon felt it too.
Every wolf watching felt the shift in the air.
A mate bond.
Between the mighty Alpha Croft and a disgraced omega servant.
Chaos erupted across the balcony.
The noble families began shouting in outrage.
Percival’s face turned deathly pale.
“Impossible,” one of the Hastings lords whispered.
Gideon no longer heard them.
He only heard Genevieve’s heartbeat weakening beneath the roar of his own blood.
The direwolf lunged for the final kill.
And Gideon broke.
With a roar so violent it shook snow from the mountainsides the Alpha launched himself from the sixty-foot balcony.
Gasps exploded across the courtyard.
Gideon shifted midair.
Bones cracked thunderously.
Flesh twisted.
Black fur erupted across his massive body as the monstrous Alpha wolf descended like death itself.
He hit the valley floor with enough force to fracture the frozen earth.
The direwolf barely had time to react.
Gideon tore into it with catastrophic brutality.
Fangs ripped through flesh.
Blood exploded across the snow.
The direwolf’s dying scream echoed through the mountains before suddenly cutting off.
Silence followed.
Horrified silence.
Genevieve stared upward through blurred vision as Gideon stood over the shredded remains of the beast.
Steam rose from his blood-soaked fur.
His amber eyes locked onto her instantly.
The remaining direwolf whimpered and backed away.
Even it understood the monster standing before it now.
Gideon shifted back into human form as he crossed the snow toward her.
His chest heaved violently.
Blood covered nearly every inch of his scarred body.
Yet when he dropped beside her his massive hands trembled.
“Genevieve.”
Her name broke from him like a prayer.
She tried to speak but coughed blood instead.
Gideon carefully lifted her into his arMs. The mate bond roared painfully between them now.
His wolf was frantic with terror.
“Stay awake.”
Gideon growled desperately.
“Do not close your eyes.”
Genevieve forced herself to focus on his face.
On the scars lining his jaw.
On the fear burning inside the most terrifying Alpha in the north.
“You broke the laws,” she whispered weakly.
Gideon pressed his forehead against hers.
“Let them choke on their laws.”
The remaining direwolf suddenly charged from the darkness with a desperate snarl.
Gideon turned instantly shielding Genevieve against his chest as the beast lunged.
But before the creature could reach them a silver arrow exploded through its skull.
The direwolf collapsed lifeless into the snow.
Every head snapped upward toward the cliffs.
A group of mounted riders stood at the edge of the valley carrying silver-marked banners Genevieve had never seen before.
At their front sat a tall woman cloaked entirely in white fur with a silver bow lowered calmly in her hands.
Her pale eyes locked directly onto Gideon.
“Alpha Croft.”
Her voice echoed coldly across the valley.
“You have broken the sacred rite before witnesses.
By the old laws of the northern territories your claim to Ashbourne is now vulnerable.”
Gideon slowly rose to his feet still holding Genevieve protectively against his chest.
The woman’s gaze shifted toward Genevieve and narrowed thoughtfully.
“Interesting,” she murmured.
“The lost bloodline survives after all.”
Genevieve’s fading mind struggled to process the words.
Lost bloodline.
The woman removed her hood revealing silver hair braided with black iron rings.
Gasps erupted from the nobles above.
Even Percival looked horrified now.
Gideon’s expression darkened instantly.
“You should not be here,” he growled.
The woman smiled faintly.
“And yet I am.”
The cold mountain wind whipped through the valley as her riders slowly descended toward Ashbourne Keep.
“My name is Selene Voss of the Moonfang Dominion.
And I believe the omega in your arms belongs to us.”
Genevieve’s heart nearly stopped.
Gideon’s arms tightened around her possessively.
Every wolf present could feel the deadly shift in the air.
Because everyone knew the truth about the Moonfang Dominion.
They were not merely a rival pack.
They were executioners.
Conquerors.
Wolves descended from the oldest royal bloodlines in existence.
And if they had truly come for Genevieve Sterling then Ashbourne was about to be dragged into a war that would drown the mountains in blood.
