Fated to my Saviour Alpha

 Moonlight filtered through the canopy, casting jagged patterns on the ground. He moved with the precision of a predator, his every step silent. The weight of the past dragged at him with each stride, but he ignored it, his expression carved from stone.

He stopped at the clearing, his gaze falling on the towering granite slab. Names were etched into its surface, a lineage of leaders who had carried the Vance Pack through centuries of blood and power. At the top, Miriam Vance.

Darius stared at her name for a long moment, his chest tightening. The last time he'd stood here had been on the day of her funeral, his hands stained with the blood of her enemies. His pack had called it a tragedy, a devastating loss to their kind. But only Darius knew the truth of what had happened.

A sharp rustle in the underbrush pulled him back to the present. His head turned, eyes narrowing as a figure emerged from the shadows.

"Ronan." Darius's voice was low, edged with warning.

The Beta stepped into the clearing, his wiry frame cloaked in darkness. He inclined his head, though the gesture carried a trace of insolence. "Alpha."

Darius said nothing, his gaze slicing through the silence like a blade. Ronan shifted, his movements slow, deliberate, as though testing the boundaries of Darius's patience.

"The pack is talking," Ronan began, his tone smooth but weighted. "They're wondering if their Alpha's priorities have... shifted."

Darius raised a brow, though the rest of his face remained impassive. "And why would they think that?"

Ronan's lips curved into a thin smile. "There's talk of a human—a girl who's taken up far more of your time than necessary."

A growl rumbled deep in Darius's chest, a sound that made the air tremble. He took a step forward, his towering frame casting a shadow over Ronan. "Mind your tongue, Ronan."

The Beta held his ground, though his smile faltered. "I mean no disrespect," he said quickly. "But the pack... they need reassurance. They need to know you're focused on what matters."

"And you think you know what matters?" Darius's voice was calm, but his eyes burned with golden fire.

Ronan hesitated, and for a moment, the mask of confidence slipped. "The pack is everything," he said finally. "And Miriam—"

Darius moved so fast that Ronan barely had time to react. In the blink of an eye, the Beta was pinned against the monument, Darius's hand wrapped around his throat.

"Don't." The word was a growl, low and lethal. "Don't you dare bring her into this."

Ronan gasped, his hands clawing at Darius's wrist, but the Alpha didn't loosen his grip. His eyes bored into Ronan's, unyielding and merciless. The Beta's pulse hammered against his palm, a frantic rhythm that spoke of fear.

Finally, Darius released him, and Ronan slumped to the ground, coughing and clutching his neck. He looked up, his face pale, but he didn't dare meet Darius's gaze.

"Leave," Darius ordered, his voice cold.

Ronan scrambled to his feet and disappeared into the shadows without another word.

Darius stood in the clearing for a moment, his breaths heavy, his fists clenched at his sides. The anger coursing through him was a familiar companion, but tonight it felt sharper, more insistent.

He turned back to the monument, his gaze settling on his mother's name once more.

"I'm doing this for you," he murmured, the words barely audible.

But the truth was, he wasn't sure if Miriam would have approved of the man he'd become. She had been ruthless, yes, but there had been a spark of warmth in her, a glimmer of hope that Darius had long since buried.

The memory of her final moments surfaced unbidden. He could still see the blood pooling beneath her, the light fading from her eyes as she reached for him.

"Promise me," she had whispered, her voice weak but resolute. "Promise me you'll protect the pack."

"I promise," he had said, his voice breaking.

But promises were a heavy thing, and Darius had carried hers like a chain around his neck ever since.

He turned away from the monument, his steps heavy as he made his way back to the compound. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the faint scent of pine and something darker—a reminder that the world outside the pack was filled with enemies waiting for him to falter.

As he entered the main gates, the guards nodded respectfully, but Darius barely acknowledged them. He made his way to his quarters, his mind racing.

The girl—Sophie—was a complication he hadn't anticipated. She was fiery, cunning, and entirely too stubborn for her own good. She didn't belong in his world, but now that she was here, he couldn't afford to let her go. Not yet.

He reached his room and closed the door behind him, the silence wrapping around him like a cloak. He sank into the chair by the window, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

The pack needed him to be strong. The enemies circling them needed him to be ruthless. And Sophie... Sophie needed to understand that in his world, there was no room for weakness.

Darius leaned back, his eyes closing as the weight of the day pressed down on him.

He didn't trust Sophie. But then again, he didn't trust anyone.

Not even himself.

As he strode back toward the compound, the wind carried a faint whisper, the voice of a memory that refused to be silenced.

Don't trust anyone, Darius. Especially those who wear their loyalty like a mask.

His mother's final words echoed in his mind, a chilling reminder that even the strongest bonds could be broken.