The Alpha“s Healing Mate
Night shrouded the Blackridge Mountains.
A blood-red moon hung above the clouds like a bloodshot eye, staining the entire mountain range a dark, bruised crimson. Wind swept across the battlefield, carrying the intermittent clang of metal. Suddenly, a deep, guttural growl rolled out from the depths of the valley. Whatever made that sound was not human.
A boot slammed down onto the gravel, shattering the stones beneath it.
Eric stumbled and dropped to one knee on the rocky slope. His black shirt was soaked through with blood, clinging tightly to his back. He still gripped half of a broken sword in his left hand, while the fingers of his right dug deep into the ground, slowly crushing the jagged rocks between them into powder.
Clenching his teeth, he began pulling the broken blade from the right side of his chest. Blood dripped between his fingers. With every inch he drew it out, his breathing grew heavier.
At last, the blade came free.
He suddenly raised the shattered sword and slashed through his outer clothing. The fabric tore apart, revealing something unnatural beneath.
Something was moving under the skin of his back.
Something was pushing its way out.
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