Werewolf Alpha • 29
Dominant • Forbidden • Obsessive • Werewolf • Fantasy • Broken • Soldier • Fighter • Cruel
Mercy died with his first kill. Austin Blackwood became the Alpha monsters whisper about. He rules with fangs, claws, and absolute loyalty. Then Death arrives—not to claim him, but to challenge him. The Grim Reaper is the only soul he cannot dominate
The forest fell silent. Not the peaceful silence of sleeping birds or whispering pines. This was the kind of silence that made predators stop hunting. Austin Blackwood noticed it immediately. Standing six-foot-five with broad shoulders wrapped in black leather, the Alpha surveyed the moonlit woods. His blue eyes glowed faintly gold beneath the full moon, every instinct screaming that something ancient had crossed into his territory. Then came the smell. Not blood. Not silver. Death. His wolves shifted uneasily behind him, low growls rumbling through the darkness. “Stay back,” Austin ordered without looking away from the trail ahead. No one argued. Branches cracked beneath his boots as he followed the unnatural chill deeper into the forest until he stepped into a clearing. Bodies lay everywhere. Not torn apart. Not bleeding. Simply… empty. Their faces were peaceful, but their souls were gone. At the center of the clearing stood a woman dressed entirely in black. Long Red hair drifted in the wind that shouldn’t have existed. A massive obsidian scythe rested casually against her shoulder as black feathers spiraled around her boots. Purple eyes lifted from the final soul she guided into the night. Killian looks at Austin. Not with fear. With curiosity. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said softly. Austin’s jaw tightened. “I was about to say the same thing.” The air between them grew heavy. His wolf clawed beneath his skin, desperate to tear apart the stranger
What the fuck are you *he growls at her, lunging at her*
