MATED TO THE SECRET ALPHA
Chapter 202: Zombie Mutts

Chapter 202: Zombie Mutts

Marcus didn’t wait. Neither did the six warriors behind him.

Bones cracked. Skin tore.

They shifted mid-run, snarling as their wolves emerged—fur bristling, fangs bared, hackles raised.

They could feel it. A foreign presence. Power. Malice. Death.

And then, they appeared.

Reana and Ryder landed hard in the snow, her bare skin hissing against the icy surface as the explosion roared behind them. Debris rained down –splinters, jagged glass, twisted metal.

Everything happened too fast... too fast for Reana’s mind to catch up. One second, she was straddling him, still flushed from his touch. The next, darkness swallowed them whole.

Ryder stood up, carefully pulling her along. "Are you hurt?" He asked.

Reana’s head rattled. "No, I’m not. And you?"

He smiled faintly, "I’m fine."

She frowned, "But you—"

"Shh..." he put a finger to her lips, silencing her. "I’m fine."

But just as she was about to protest, a whizzing sound cut through the air—sharp and lethal.

"Watch out!" Reana cried out, instinctively hugging him but it was too late. She turned, using her body as a shield.

But before the object could strike, a blur of movement intercepted it.

Clang!

Steel met steel – or perhaps claw. The projectile, a silver knife, ricocheted off to the side, embedding itself in a tree with a sickening thunk. A figure stood between them and death, growling, steam rising from his black fur as he shifted—half-wolf, half-man.

It was Marcus.

Chest heaving, eyes glowing amber with fury, the Zeta snarled, facing the flames, "HOW DARE YOU?!"

And through the smoke and fire, walked a man—untouched. Cloaked in rich blue trimmed with white furs. A golden mask glinting like a firelight. Regal. Terrifying.

Reana’s eyes locked onto him, and her breath caught. Not from recognition, but from the traitorous stir of her wolf.

’Our mate is here!’ Rea exclaimed excitedly.

’If. you. utter. another. word.’ Reana growled inwardly, shoving her wolf’s voice back into the recesses of her mind. Now was not the time.

The masked man walked out of the burning carriage and casually raised his hand, and a thunderous howl cut through the air. "Go," he commanded lazily and the shadows obeyed.

From the fog beyond the treeline, they emerged.

Not wolves. Not men.

Abominations.

Twisted limbs. Soulless eyes. Movements too fluid, too wrong. Like wolves skinned and stitched back together by madness. Magic? No—worse. A curse.

Marcus growled low, stepping in front of his warriors readying themselves for a battle.

"What are these? Monsters?" Reana asked, her eyes almost bulging from the shock.

Ryder didn’t look at the masked man.

He turned to her.

Calm. Too calm.

As if they hadn’t just been attacked. As if warriors weren’t shifting around them. As if the man standing yards away hadn’t just tried to kill them both.

"No. Corrupted wolves." Ryder replied calmly.

"What? Does such a thing exist?"

His hands moved with gentle purpose, tugging her disheveled dress into place, pulling the cloak over her shoulders with delicate care.

"Not naturally," Ryder said, drawing Reana closer. "They were made. Twisted by blood rituals. They don’t feel pain. They don’t obey instinct. They only kill."

Fingers combed through her tousled hair, brushing snowflakes and desire from her cheeks. He straightened her hood and adjusted her collar with the poise of a king dressing his queen for court.

A low, bone-chilling snarl echoed from the front line.

Marcus spat on the snow. "Great. Just what we needed—zombie mutts."

One of the corrupted beasts lunged, and Marcus met it mid-air with a roar, claws slashing, tearing through rotting flesh. But even as it fell, another took its place.

Reana’s heart pounded. "What does he want with me?" she whispered, her gaze locked on her so-called mate. He stood still, a sovereign among chaos, unflinching as if none of this mattered. "Surely, he does not care about the bond."

"He’s your mate, no?" Ryder arched a brow.

Reana rolled her eyes, "Don’t rub it in."

Ryder chuckled. Then his hand tipped her chin up.

"Don’t look at other men," he said softly, but there was no humor in it. Just ice beneath velvet.

"I didn’t," she whispered, cheeks flaming.

He smiled faintly. "Didn’t you?"

He didn’t wait for her answer. Slowly and deliberately, he leaned in and kissed her. Not in anger. Not in passion. But with devotion so deep it turned her bones molten. It was a kiss meant to brand. To claim.

And it did.

When he pulled away, her lips were trembling, her pulse roaring louder than the wind.

He brushed a thumb over her lips, wiping off the saliva he’d deliberately smeared on her lips. "You’re mine."

"You don’t have to sing it," she blushed.

The masked man stopped walking, his eyes zeroed in on the two kissing. Light flashed in his eyes and two giant beasts stood on both sides of him—like demonic sentinels. Their eyes glowed an unnatural violet, pulsing with something ancient and forbidden.

Suddenly, the golden-masked man raised a single hand—and the corrupted wolves halted mid-charge, statues in the snow. An eerie silence fell over the battlefield.

Then, his voice rang out; smooth, aristocratic, and laced with dark amusement.

"Luna Reana."

She stiffened, but Ryder blocked her view of him.

The masked man tilted his head slowly, as though wanting to catch a glimpse of her. "Come willingly, and I will spare them..."

"Are you sure you want to finish that sentence?" Ryder said coldly, turning toward the masked man, placing himself fully between Reana and the threat.

The man didn’t flinch. If anything, he seemed amused.

"Ah," he said with a chuckle, "so the consort plays the knight. Tell me, Alpha Snow, how far are you willing to go for something that was never yours to claim?"

Good thing only Ryder’s pack members came along, otherwise, Ryder’s identity would have been revealed.

A low growl rumbled from Ryder’s chest. His aura flared like a storm breaking. Around him, the snow hissed, as if scared of what was about to come.

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