MATED TO THE SECRET ALPHA
Chapter 170: Ryder’s True Form

Chapter 170: Ryder’s True Form

The people gasped. Of course, they thought the same!

"Look! Her corpse is fresh! Did she just die?"

"She’s cursed for–!"

Chaos broke out as everyone started shouting over one another, their faces twisted in fear and suspicion. Some pointed accusing fingers at the broken gravestones, others at the trembling Madam Katherine, who had not been able to pull herself from the trauma that had hit her. Her eyes were wide as she stared at her daughter’s charred remains.

"She brought this on us!"

"She angered the Goddess!"

Suddenly, Kael, who’d also been shocked, growled, silencing everyone. All eyes turned to him, furious, cold, and malicious. No one was scared of him now. If anything, they wanted to eat him and his mother whole.

Kael himself didn’t look any better from the rest. His hair was mussed, his clothes torn and singed, a gash bleeding sluggishly at his temple. Smoke still rose from parts of his coat. His normally composed face was tight with fury, confusion, and something else – something much darker.

His golden eyes, usually so commanding, looked wild now, as if struggling to contain the whirlwind of emotions inside him. He took a step forward, and the crowd instinctively leaned back, their anger trembling under the surface, barely restrained by the fear of what might happen next.

"You dare point fingers at my family?" Kael’s voice was low, almost a whisper, but it sliced through the graveyard like a blade.

The girl who had first spoken flinched and stumbled back, but the older man – the burly man – stepped forward, fists clenched, face twisted with something between terror and hatred.

"It’s the truth!" he shrieked, voice raw. "Vivian cursed us! Your sister cursed us!" His hand shot out, shaking so hard it barely looked human as it jabbed at Kael. "You... you’re filthy demons! Cursed abominations!"

"Ptooey!" He spat at Kael’s feet, the spittle hitting the snowy ground with a wet slap.

Silence.

The world seemed to tilt. No one moved. No one spoke. Even the cold wind froze, the very sky pressing down with heavy, stifling dread.

Then... like a bomb detonated, a sound, a deep, raw guttural sound began to build in Kael’s chest.

"ROOOAR!!"

A roar so low it was almost more felt than heard. It was a vibration that shivered through the stones beneath their feet and burrowed into bones. His muscles rippled under his skin, too tight, barely restrained.

The man and everyone before him shuffled backwards, but Kael lurched forward, a blur of fury. His hands, half-shifted, gleamed with blackened claws that slashed the air, inches from the man’s throat. Just as he was about to grab him....

CRACK!

A stone whipped through the air and slammed into the side of Kael’s head.

It was unexpected, so he staggered, a feral snarl ripping from his lips as his head snapped to the side.

It was a girl. The same young girl that had caused this trouble.

He hated it. He hated her to the bone.

She stood there, trembling, both hands raised, another stone poised to throw. Her face was pale, lips quivering. But she did not back down.

Kael saw red. His rage exploded like a volcano, all-consuming. He ignored the man for the moment, turned toward her. She was the cause of this mess. She die first.

His muscles coiled, ready to spring. But just then, the burly man he ignored bellowed, a sound that tore from his throat raw and primal...

"AWOOOOOL!"

It wasn’t a cry of fear. It was a call to arms.

Kael’s body reacted before his mind did. Bones cracked and snapped, his skin splitting to make way for the beast underneath. His form twisted violently, shifting in a painful transformation – something too brutal, too agonising to be admired.

When he straightened, black fur bristling, teeth bared, he wasn’t alone.

Around him, the crowd erupted.

Women screamed and ran for cover, but then the screams turned into snarls. The men’s bodies contorted. Joints broke backward and rejoined. Flesh tore and reformed. Blood spattered the dirt as claws punched through human skin.

"Awool!"

"Awool!"

One by one, they shifted. And their eyes, once human, gleamed with raw, unrelenting hatred that was directed at none other than Kael.

More than ten wolves stood behind the giant grey wolf, waiting, ready to pounce at the enemy.

....

Meanwhile, the couple, or rather, the man who caused the chaos in the graveyard, was resting his head on his woman’s thigh. His appearance had changed. His eyes were closed, sleeping...it seemed.

Reana’s fingers tangled absentmindedly in his long, red hair as she hummed a soft tune, her touch tender and careful, as if she was afraid to not wake him up.

Her heart still hadn’t settled from earlier. She glanced down at him, the memory was fresh and vivid in her mind. No, not just in her mind.

Her fingers twitched slightly, recalling how just a few minutes ago, as they reached her room, Ryder had suddenly dropped to his knees. He’d snarled at her not to come close. He was in pain. The pain twisted his face into something inhuman.

She had frozen. She was helpless, her heart lodged in her throat as she was forced to watch him battle the pain.

Then, right before her eyes, his form had rippled and his disguise broke and he shifted from the Ryder she knew.

Now, the man lying on her thigh was not the one she knew, but a sinfully handsome being with fiery red hair spilling down his back like a silken blaze.

And here he was, breathing evenly against her, as if the storm had never happened at all.

Reana’s fingers moved to his face, brushing a few strands of hair that was stuck on his face. On his forehead was a small silver crescent.

Why does he have that? She wondered.

Just then, the door to her chambers burst open. Reana’s gaze snapped up and her eyes turned darkly with frost. She tried to move but Ryder stirred. Her gaze lowered to his finely chiseled face, peaceful in a way she had never seen before, and her heart squeezed painfully.

She didn’t have the heart to wake him up. And she couldn’t let anyone see him like this. His scent was different from theirs and his appearance too. If he was seen like this, it would bring trouble to them both.

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