Chapter 129

• Callan POV
• My heart stops beating, and time slows down as I watch a filthy fucking rogue dragging my beloved mate toward the forest, and I am powerless to stop him, unable to rip his throat out for touching my sweet Ayla, unable to kill him where he stands for scaring her half to death. My supposed half-brother stands in front of me, a red orb of magic hovering above his hand; he’s blocking my way to Ayla, mocking me for not being able to save her. If it weren’t for the 9 rogues holding me down, I would tear him limb from limb along with everyone else here; the stench of the rogues is overbearing; they smell like death, but their horrid smell doesn’t hide the smell of fear that is coming from Ayla. I don’t look at the man who shares the same blood as me; I don’t listen to his mocking words; I look at Ayla. If I die today, I want her to be the last thing I see. Her eyes go wide as she turns toward me; the beautiful purple flower that surrounds her pupil begins to glow, engulfing her body. It’s like she has a halo of pure light encasing her; I can see my mark on her neck; it’s red as if fire has consumed it, and Ayla’s mark on my body begins to get warmer just as the ground beneath me begins to shake. My so-called brother looks shocked; his eyes widen as thick roots burst up through the road, wrapping around his feet. That red orb that flickered across his palm shoots down, breaking a few of the roots, but they continue to weave around his body, climbing up his side and encasing his arms. The hands that gripped onto my body, pushing me down onto the cold, hard concrete, loosened, followed by the sound of them scampering away, but I didn't chase after them; instead, I rushed across the road and grabbed Ayla, pulling her into my arms as I inhaled her sweet, intoxicating scent, smothering the raging wolf pacing inside my mind. I pull away so I can check she’s ok, gently running my fingers over the red mark that is forming on her beautiful face from that stinking fucking rogue that dared hurt her, letting the rage explode inside of me. His face is burnt into my memory now, and as soon as I find him, I am going to tear his arms off for touching my mate. The sound of paws slamming against the ground breaks through the trees, and I know I will get my justice soon enough.
• “So it’s true then, you are the nymph!” Minister Robert says as he walks out of the forest toward me and Ayla. Ayla turns to look, and that’s when I see a trail of blood that trickled from her ear. I gently tilt her head and examine the area around and in her ear, but I don’t see any cuts, bumps, or marks, just a small trickle of now-dried blood. I glance at my mother, confused as to why the minister is here, but she shrugs her shoulders in answer.