Chapter 0415

I'd always known Guardians were formidable. Every werewolf pup grows up hearing tales of their legendary strength. It's no wonder Alphas covet them so desperately. But knowing about their power and witnessing it firsthand? That's an entirely different beast.

Watching Isolde obliterate nearly a thousand hunters in one fell swoop left me speechless. The sheer magnitude of her power—channeled through Seraphina and Evelyn—made me wonder how she contained it all. Did it lie dormant inside her, waiting to be unleashed? Or did it simmer beneath the surface, restless and demanding release?

Questions for another time. Right now, my mate needed me.

"How are you feeling, love?"

"Like I've been trampled by a stampede."

"Let's get you back to the cabin."

"But the others—our pack members. Are they safe? Were any hurt?" Isolde insisted, ever the selfless Luna.

I opened my mouth to promise I'd handle it once she was resting, but Leopold and Lillian jogged up before I could respond.

"Luna, are you alright?" Lillian asked, breathless.

"I'm fine. What about our pack?"

"A few injuries, but no fatalities, thank the Moon Goddess," Leopold answered. His expression darkened as he scanned the battlefield. "Other packs weren't so lucky. Several lost Betas. Some even lost their Alphas." He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "We had intel about an attack, but nothing this massive."

Sebastian stepped forward. "Were the elders harmed?"

"No, they were shielded. But the packs who lost Alphas will be in chaos—either establishing new leadership or being absorbed by others."

I scooped Isolde into my arms, cradling her against my chest. "I'm taking her to rest. Then I'll return to help with cleanup."

"Victor, I should stay—"

"You, Evelyn, and Seraphina just saved us all," I cut in gently. "Now let us handle the aftermath. We've got a long night ahead and a journey home tomorrow. Rest. Regain your strength."

Sebastian and Adrian clearly agreed, though they at least had their newborns as leverage to convince their mates to retreat. Reluctantly, I left Isolde after extracting a promise that she'd shower and sleep.

The cleanup was grueling. The elder's comparison to a woodchipper hadn't been exaggerated. We burned every trace, ensuring no evidence remained for human authorities. The elders would fabricate a cover story for the explosions and fires.

Sebastian, Adrian, and I focused on comforting the grieving packs—especially those now leaderless. Some had heirs ready to step up. Others would devolve into power struggles, vulnerable to hostile takeovers. At least Isolde's father and Alpha Alistair had survived. I'd make sure she knew.

By dawn, I finally collapsed beside Isolde, stealing a few hours of sleep before departure.

The elders summoned an Alpha meeting first. They wanted reports on hunter activity—this brazen tournament ambush marked a dangerous escalation. I mentioned the recent sprite attacks. Adrian volunteered to consult King Oberon about fae casualties. Sebastian proposed reaching out to supernaturals pledging allegiance to the Guardians for intel.

Then came the whispers of captured werewolves. Multiple Alphas suspected abductions but had no leads. We scheduled a video conference in two weeks to share findings.

The hunters had drawn first blood.

Now it was our turn.