Eclipsed Destiny

A nightmare of blood, steel, death.

At the center of it all-Celia lay still, unmoving, her body a motionless monument to death, her darkening blood spreading upon the plain dirt beneath her.

Aziel was not able to breathe. His chest constricted, his heartbeat roaring in his ears. The world blurred at the edges, and the sounds of battle drowned beneath a deafening silence that swallowed everything else.

Then he saw him.

The rogue leader stood over Celia's form, now crumpled on the ground, her blood dripping from his claws as he smiled to himself with lips curled in a snarl of triumph.

Something in Aziel snapped.

A roar ripped from his throat, so deep and raw that the earth beneath him quaked. The pack froze, their instincts screaming at what was coming-an Alpha's fury unleashed.

His transformation was instantaneous. Claws extended, fangs bared, muscles coiled like a drawn bow. His wolf surged to the surface, a violent, feral thing demanding vengeance.

The rogue leader barely had time to blink before Aziel was on him.

One moment, the rogue was gloating. The next, he was airborne, hurled through the air like a ragdoll. His body slammed into a tree with bone-crushing force, bark splintering from the impact.

Aziel didn't stop.

The rogue didn't get a chance to recover. Unstoppable, merciless, enraged, he found himself there the claws slashing in deep, shredding flesh and muscle and sinew. He howled in agony, rolling out of the reach of the monstrous thing, but Aziel was swifter.

World narrowed to single purpose.

Kill him.

The rogue stumbled, blood oozing from new wounds, but he still sneered. "So, you do care about her," he taunted, wiping the blood from his mouth. "I wondered what it would take to break you."

Aziel saw red.

He launched himself forward, his fist hitting the rogue's jaw with a sickening crack. The rogue's head snapped back as blood sprayed from his mouth. Aziel did not let up. He hit again harder, faster, deadlier.

The rogue just managed to lift his arms to cover himself as Aziel's claws tore through the defenses to rip deep into his chest.noveldrama

"You made a mistake," Aziel growled, his voice barely human.

The rogue coughed, spitting blood, yet still had the audacity to smile. "And what mistake was that?"

Aziel bared his fangs.

"You thought I wouldn't burn the world down for her."

And with one swift, brutal motion-he ripped the rogue's throat out.

The rogue gurgled, hands clawing at his ruined neck, but Aziel had already turned away. He was done with him.

Celia.

He sprinted back to her, his heart pounding with terror.

It changed the moment that rogue leader hit the ground.

The other rogues faltered; their confidence had been shattered. They had believed that

their leader was untouchable. Now he lay dead at Aziel's feet.

Marcus, blood-soaked and feral, let out a howl of rage. "CHASE THEM DOWN!"

The pack responded as one.

A storm of claws and fangs descended on the remaining rogues. Those who didn't run were killed in seconds.

But Aziel wasn't looking.

He focused on Celia.

His hands were against her, pressing into the wound, his breathing labored, ragged

gasps. Too much blood. Her chest barely rose. Her skin was cold.

"No, no, no, no—" Aziel growled, his voice breaking. "Come on, Celia."

His hands were shaking. Aziel never shook. But now, holding her fragile body, terror

unlike anything he had ever known gripped him.

Her lips parted slightly. A faint, broken whisper. "Aziel..."

His breath caught.

"I'm here," he choked out, pressing his forehead to hers. "I'm right here."

Her fingers twitched against his wrist, weak, struggling. His chest ached.

"Stay with me,” he whispered, voice shaking.

But her breathing was getting shallower.

His fear turned to desperation.

He scooped her up, holding her against him as he turned to Marcus. "We need the healer. Now."

Marcus nodded, face pale. "Run."

And Aziel ran.

A Race Against Death

The world blurred around him. Trees, bodies, the remnants of battle-none of it mattered.

All that mattered was Celia in his arms.

She was barely conscious, her head lolling against his chest. Her breathing was too slow. Her skin was too cold.

His mind screamed at him to move faster.

He was inside the healer's tent in a heartbeat, kicking the flap open with a force that shook the wooden frame.

The healer a frail, elderly woman-jumped at his sudden entrance but immediately took in the situation. "Lay her down!"

Aziel did as he was told, but he didn't step back.

The healer pressed a hand to Celia's wound, her brow furrowing. "The wound is deep. The blood loss-"

"Save her," Aziel growled.

The healer looked at him. "I will do my best. But I can promise you nothing."

That was not enough.

Aziel clenched his fists, his body vibrating with a helpless rage.

Celia cannot die.

He'll not let her die.

He turned to leave the tent before he lost himself to rage.

Outside Marcus and Kaelen waited. Their faces were grim, their expressions mirroring

his own torment.

"She'll make it," Marcus said, but even he sounded uncertain.

His claws dug into his palms, his breath ragged. Not fading was the rage inside him,

boiling.

"I should have gotten to her sooner," he whispered.

Kaelen shook his head. "This wasn't your fault."

Whose was it, then? Aziel's eyes flashed as he turned on him.

Kaelen did not respond.

Aziel turned away and began shaking. He had torn apart the rogue leader. He had slaughtered those who threatened her.

And still, that had not been enough.

His hands shook at his sides. The fury inside him was still roaring, demanding a release,

demanding blood. But there was nothing left to slay.

He drew in a sharp breath. He had to keep it together. For Celia.

For the pack.

For himself.

Cliffhanger Ending: The Reckoning

The healer came out of the tent.

Aziel spun on his heel, his heart ceasing to beat.

"She lives," the healer said.

A breath Aziel hadn't known he held left him.

But," the healer went on, her face grim, "she's not stable. And if she doesn't wake

soon... she may not wake at all."

Aziel felt as though he'd been punched in the chest.

His fists clenched. His rage, his helplessness, his desperation-they all warred inside

him.

And in that moment, he swore something.

If Celia didn't wake

He would bring hell itself upon the ones responsible.

No matter the cost.