Betrayed By My Mate, Claimed By His Lycan King Uncle
Chapter 85: The gate of no return.

Chapter 85: The gate of no return.

Rhys and Anaya stayed behind, crouched low behind the thick bushes, their breathing shallow as they watched Sorayah disappear into the distance. The minutes dragged on painfully, each second feeling like an eternity, until finally, Dimitri’s imposing figure passed by, granting them the opportunity they had been waiting for.

Wasting no time, they slipped out from their hiding place, making their way back toward the devastated pack Dimitri had so cruelly ruined.

As they approached the pack’s sealed gate, a sense of unease washed over them. Both Rhys and Anaya felt their bodies stiffen instinctively. The heavy scent of blood filled the air, thick and oppressive, making them hesitant to even touch the gate, let alone push it open.

"Should we go in now?" Anaya finally broke the silence, her voice trembling slightly despite her attempt to sound brave. She heaved a heavy sigh, bracing herself for whatever horrors lay beyond the gate. "I mean... it’s getting late. If we want to stay on our journey, we better get what we came for immediately."

"You’re right," Rhys agreed, his voice low but steady. His gaze locked with hers, unwavering. "I know you’re strong, and your swordsmanship is impressive. But no matter what happens in there, you stay behind me. I’ll protect you."

A small, surprised smile crossed Anaya’s lips, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. "Ouuu, that’s so sweet," she murmured shyly.

Rhys narrowed his eyes, his expression hardening with seriousness. "Focus, Anaya. I’m serious," he said sharply, his tone slicing through her moment of giddiness. "I don’t want you acting recklessly inside. Promise me you’ll stay behind me."

Anaya’s blush faded instantly under his stern gaze. She huffed and rolled her eyes dramatically. "Fine, fine!" she muttered. "Let’s just get this over with."

Rhys nodded once, firm and resolute. He tightened his grip around the hilt of his sword, and Anaya mirrored his action, her own weapon gleaming faintly under the fading sunlight. Together, they pressed against the massive, rusted gate. It resisted stubbornly at first, the heavy wood and iron weighing down their hands, but they gritted their teeth and shoved with all their strength. Finally, with a deafening creak, the gate buckled and crashed inward.

Dust and debris exploded into the air, forcing Rhys and Anaya to instinctively turn their faces away. But before they could fully recover, they felt something wet and sticky splash against their skin.

The scent hit them immediately, the unmistakable scent of blood.

Jerking their heads toward the source, they were met with a horrifying sight that made their stomachs turn and their hearts clench in terror.

Anaya let out a strangled scream, her hands flying up to cover her mouth as her body trembled uncontrollably. "Arrrgh!" she cried, staggering back a step, her wide, tear-filled eyes desperate to look away from the horror scene.

The ground before them was littered with countless bodies, werewolves and humans alike all strewn across the ruined city in horror disarray. Pools of blood flooded the streets, soaking into the cracked earth. Limbs were severed, heads lay yards away from their bodies, and torsos were ripped apart, some missing entire sections. It was a nightmarish massacre.

Some corpses had already begun to decay, flies buzzing hungrily around them, while others remained eerily fresh, blood still dripping from gaping wounds. The sheer violence of the slaughter suggested it had occurred only hours ago, yet the devastation was so complete it seemed impossible to comprehend.

Rhys swallowed hard, forcing himself to step forward. He tightened his jaw against the bile rising in his throat. He didn’t have the luxury of time to dwell on the horror. They had a mission and every second they lingered made it more likely Dimitri or something worse would find them.

Beside him, Anaya struggled to compose herself, clutching the hilt of her sword with trembling hands.

Just then, Rhys placed both hands on Anaya’s face, gently cupping her cheeks as he gazed deeply into her wide, terrified eyes.

"It’s fine, Anaya. Listen to me. It’s fine," he said, his voice soft yet firm, trying to steady her trembling body with his presence.

"No, it’s not, Rhys," Anaya whispered back, her voice quivering with fear. "Let’s get away from here. Please."

"No," Rhys replied resolutely, his thumbs brushing away a tear that had escaped down her cheek. "We’re not leaving. Not until we do what we came here for. Just try to divert your gaze from the horror around us. You’ll be fine... or better yet, I’ll carry you. That way, you can close your eyes, and I’ll be your shield." His voice was etched with seriousness, his determination like steel.

"They’re dead already, Anaya," he added more softly.

Anaya swallowed hard and gave a reluctant nod, her entire body still trembling. Without another word, Rhys knelt down in front of her.

"Climb on. I’ll back you," he said gently, offering his back.

Without wasting a second, Anaya climbed onto him, her arms clinging tightly around his shoulders. Rhys steeled himself, took a deep breath, and marched forward into the fallen pack.

Her eyes remained tightly closed against his back.

But just as Rhys took a cautious step further inside, his boots already soaked in blood, a loud, echoing slam resounded behind them. Alarmed, Rhys immediately turned his head.

The gate which they had struggled so hard to push open before was now standing upright again, locked tightly shut as though it had never been touched.

Even Anaya, who had kept her eyes squeezed shut until now, instinctively opened them at the loud noise.

"What just happened?!" she cried out, tears spilling anew down her cheeks. "Who closed the gate?!"

Before Rhys could even find his voice to answer, a powerful gust of wind blasted over them, cold and violent, causing Anaya to slide off his back in sheer panic.

And then they saw it.

The air around them seemed to shift and ripple as horror shapes materialized before their eyes, skeleton-like creatures, kneeling beside the mutilated bodies, feasting on the remains with razor-sharp teeth.

The horror struck them like a physical blow.

They hadn’t seen the creatures before. It was as though they had been invisible, concealed by some dark magic. Now, exposed, they gnawed hungrily at the corpses of werewolves and humans alike, their skeletal faces stained red with blood.

Rhys, heart pounding, realized now why some of the bodies had already begun to decay while others hadn’t, the creatures had been devouring them. Creatures born from dark magic.

"Let’s get out of here," Anaya whispered frantically into his ear, clutching his arm with white-knuckled fear.

But before they could even turn around, the creatures slowly lifted their faces. Bloody flesh clung between their teeth as they snarled, glaring hungrily at Rhys and Anaya.

Then, chillingly, one of the skeletons hissed, "You’re dead!"

The others joined in, their raspy voices forming a chant:

"You’re dead! You’re dead!"

_____________

Meanwhile, back at the camp...

Sorayah, now clean and dressed in neat trousers and a plain white shirt, as she stood beside Dimitri bath scrubbing his body with a sponge to erase every stubborn speck of blood and dirt. Yet, her mind was far from the task.

Her thoughts were consumed by Rhys and Anaya.

Did they manage to get food from the ruined pack?

Have they left safely for Anaya’s parents’ pack?

Or had something gone wrong...?

The unsettling thoughts pressed down at her as she worked.

Dimitri, meanwhile, had returned to camp hours ago. Unlike the other soldiers, who had immediately cleaned up after the brutal raid, Dimitri had gone straight to see Liam. The two men had spoken in low, serious tones for most of the day and into nightfall. Only now was Dimitri taking a moment to attend to himself.

Breaking the heavy silence, Dimitri’s cold voice cut through her swirling thoughts.

"Are your saviors settling down comfortably in the camp?" he asked, a sharp edge to his tone. "I haven’t seen them since I got back."

He paused, then added darkly, "I need to see them tonight."

At his words, Sorayah’s heart clenched.

To kill them, right? she thought bitterly, forcing a small, tight smirk to her lips.

She quickly composed herself before replying aloud, "They already left."

Dimitri’s head snapped toward her, his green eyes wide with shock.

"They’ve left?!" he repeated, his voice rising. "Why did you let them leave without letting me see them first?! They’re the only clue we have to find out who shot at you!"

Sorayah put down the sponge she was using to scrub his body, her hands steady despite the pounding of her heart.

"Only clue?" she echoed, arching an eyebrow. "There was a war, your highness. It’s not unusual for stray arrows to fly. I was shot, yes, and they saved me. They are merely a couple, visitors from the other pack. I believe they have continued on their journey by now."

Dimitri narrowed his eyes, studying her carefully.

"Really?" he muttered and let out a smirk."That arrow was meant specifically for you, Sorayah."

His voice was low and dangerous now. "When I instructed you to go with that man and woman, I made an investigation before ruining the pack completely. Everything points to one conclusion and that is the arrow was no accident. It was meant for you."