The Silent Alpha (Natalia)

77. Ravenstone
***Zane***
” you have to get out of here ,”Tylen groans, attempting to put weight on his injured front paw but wincing in pain.
I turn back to the harbor, seeing many wolves trying to escape the poisonous gas dispersing across
the docks in small green clouds.
Tylen can’t walk… and I won’t leave him.
“Shift. I’ll carry you,” I urge him, Tylen opening his mouth to protest. “Shift now!”/ growl, Tylen’s wolf morphing into its injured human. It’s only when I see Tylen’s mangled body that I realize the severity of his injuries. His shoulder is torn open while claw and bite marks litter his chest.
He won’t make it unless we get him help now! Grayson hisses.
“Get on my back and hold on tight. I’m getting you out of here,” Tinstruct Tylen, Grayson lowering himself so he can climb on easier. Once he’s on our back, I follow the other wolves escaping the harbor. Where to?” I ask.
“I’m only going to slow you down,” Tylen grumbles.
“Where to?” I demand, Tylen letting out a frustrated groan. “There’s a medical tent just beyond the pack house,” Tylen says through gritted teeth. “You can take
me there.”
Grayson picks up the pace, Tylen tightening his grip on my neck to keep from falling off and muttering that he’s going to be sick under his breath.
I swear to Moon Goddess, if you vomit on me, I’m throwing you off the cliffs, Grayson mutters as he jumps over stones, vines, and fallen tree trunks.
“f**k you,”Tylen moans.
As we arrive at the medical tents, I shift, throwing Tylen over my shoulders like a sack of potatoes much to his annoyance and running towards the guards standing outside the tents. They let us through without a second thought.
Inside, we see c*****e everywhere, men and women alike lying in cots with wounds all over their bodies. Medics run to and fro with supplies, stitching up silver wounds and injecting serums into the injured soldiers who begin to scream and cry for mercy, I find an empty cot and toss Tylen on it, several medics rushing to help the Alpha’s son.
A medic injects a black and golden fluid into Tylen and he does his best to hold back his screams of
pain, his face flushing red while the veins on his neck and temples bulge furiously.
“The serum counteracts the effects of silver and wolfsbane,” Toran explains, the Alpha’s voice startling me as I turn around to find him standing behind me. “After years of war and research, we realized
the answer to our silver problem was quite simple. Silver slows down our healing, but gold speeds it back up.” Tylen lets out a strained scream, Toran frowning in response. “Unfortunately, we have yet to figure
out how to reduce the pain.”
Tylen continues to writhe in agony, making it difficult for the medics to stitch up his wounds. Toran taps on my shoulder and gestures for me to help him hold down Tylen’s legs so the medics can stitch up the gashes on his torso and arm. When Tylen does not appear to calm down, Toran takes his son’s hand. wrapping his fingers around Tylen’s thumb in a tight embrace and leaning in close to his face.
“You can do this, Ty,” Toran whispers. “Remember, pain just means you’re not dead. You’re not dead, do you hear me? You’re not dead which means you’ve won your battle. You get another chance so don’t spoil it. You’re not dead. You have a chance. It hurts. I know it hurts, but you are not dead!”
For the first time since the battle began, the stone wall around the two alphas begins to crumble, revealing a bond between them I had never known before Kota, the bond between a father and his
son.
“Aunty’s dead,” Tylen whimpers through his cries of pain. “I know,” Toran soothes. “But she’s with Toby now. He took her home.”
I watch in envy as Toran calms his son, talking him through his pain until the serum begins to take

effect. Even when at odds with his son and in front of a crowd of war-hardened veterans, Toran chooses to
be a father first and an Alpha second.
Anger and pain fills my heart as I realize I never truly had a father, just a dark figure casting his shadow of misery over my existence.
“Are you hurt?” Toran asks, his voice pulling me from my thoughts. I turn to see the Alpha staring up at me, his eyes scanning me for any injuries.
“Are you hurt?” he repeats, standing up right. Despite the war waging outside and the chaos of the tent, there is a calmness in his voice.
I look down at myself, and aside from a few scratches, I am mostly unharmed. Shaking my head silently, Toran instructs a nurse to bring me some shorts and turns back to his son, giving his hand another squeeze.
“You’re done,” he says to him, Tylen shaking his head in refusal despite his injuries still oozing a little blood.
“I can still fight,” he argues, attempting to climb out of the cot and groaning in pain. “I just need to catch my breath.”
“I said you’re done!” Toran snaps. Tylen sitting back on the cot. “You completed your task. You kept Zane alive and made sure no one made it through the channel. You’re done. Just rest.”
“Am I being punished?” Tylen suddenly retorts. “Am I being punished like you punished Rionna? We’ve done our job and now you don’t need us?”
What the hell is that supposed to mean? I wonder.
“For f***s sake, Tylen. I don’t want to lose you too! Don’t you understand?” Toran explodes. “You have
a chance to live the rest of your life with your mate. I never had that. I lost mine and now I’ve lost the only
other woman I’ve ever loved because I lied to her. I LIED and she hates me. Look around you, son. What do
vou see?” he asks, gesturing to the devastation in the room. “Learn from me and my mistakes. Learn when
to walk away from a fight. Learn to be something other than a soldier and stay put!”
Must be nice to have a father who cares if you live or die, Grayson remarks. Can’t relate.
“You know, that right there is your problem,” Tylen snaps. “You think you can make decisions for us. That is why Rionna hates you. Not because she doesn’t love you, but because you took her choice away and you’ve done it yet again by handing her those divorce papers. You made assumptions and decisions without consulting her. Without asking what she wants.”
They’re divorcing?
“I’m not discussing this any further,” Toran says, turning towards the tent entrance. “Fine,” Tylen scoffs. “But I’m not staying put either. I’m not a child, father.”
“Then stop acting like one,” Toran says softly. “Rest and when you are fully healed, you may offer your help again and I will gladly accept it. But not before you regain your strength.” Turning to me, Toran gestures to the door. “Follow me.”
I don’t know what to expect from the Alpha but I follow him out to another tent set up beside the medical one. In the middle of the tent sits a large table with a map spread out and several men gathered around it, each discussing different points of attack.
“Gentlemen, this is Zane White, the son of-” “Sebastian White,” a man snarls, his eyes narrowing to slits as he looks at me.
“I was going to say the son of your Luna, Silas,” Toran replies calmly, though I hear the threat in his voice. “He has a very particular set of skills that may come in handy and he’s here to help.”
“So it seems your theory was correct… The Scarlett heir did indeed survive the night of our attack, but can we trust him?” Another wolf asks, his gray eyes studying me closely as he lights a cigarette. A quick inspection of his memories tells me he is a skilled soldier by the name of Isaac. “After all, the Scarlett bloodline runs through his veins and you did kill his mother, even if she revived herself by the grace of our Mother Moon.”
“Zane is not his father and I can assure you, he wants nothing to do with that beast,” Toran explains, clasping his hands together. “Now gentlemen, what do we have? What do we know about the Scarlett
mutts?”
The men glance at me, and without speaking, point to the harbor. An amused smile spreads across Toran’s face and I realize the men are mindlinking. Lowering my walls, I listen in, Toran carefully waiting for me to react to the disrespect on my own.
“I will not speak before a Scarlett mutt, Alpha,” Silas mind-links, Grayson growling with indignation.
“Then say it to my face,” Grayson sneers through our connection. “And give me a good reason not to show you what this Scarlett mutt can do.”
Themen all stare at me in shock, Silas’ face flushed with embarrassment and anger that I knew what
he thought of me.
“Like I said, Zane has a very particular set of skills, skills that can be useful to us if you set aside your prejudice,” Toran chuckles. “Sebastian has wasted a valuable resource,” he adds, circling the table while the men shiver anxiously. “We shall not make the same mistake. And remember, gentlemen, I never bring in strangers without good reason.” The smile on his face suddenly vanishes, the room feeling colder without it. “So don’t ever question me again.”
“Yes, Alpha,” the men reply, their eyes watching me cautiously.
“Now, then. Give me the report. What are we looking at?” Toran demands, growing noticeably irritable.
“Sebastian and his mutts have established a base on the harbor, thus controlling what goes in and out of the main island. Our scouts on the west inform us that the channel is blocked by debris so the
women and children are safe in the bunker for now.”
22
“Our main concern, sir, is Scarlett Haven’s control of the Harbor,” Isaac explains. “Sebastian has very quickly set up explosives and guns around the perimeter of the Harbor, making it hard for us to infiltrate the base.”
I study the map of the harbor, attempting to understand Sebastian’s plan. The Harbor is a large ‘l’ shape, man-made bay with several docks parallel to each other on either side of the bay. It is the only place boats can access the island safely to dock, the entire island rimmed by steep, rocky cliffs.
So he plans to cut off our supplies… I observe, noting that the harbor is down hill. But this gives us an
advantage. We can see their movements and if we can lure Sebastian out of hiding and distract him, it’ll
allow the other soldiers to go in for the attack.
It appears Toran shares the same idea.
“So we need to lure him out of his safety zone,” Toran sighs, studying the perimeter drawn on the map. “But even then, Sebastian’s gas can break through our masks. We won’t survive if he uses his gift and my gift is useless unless I can get my hands on the bastard.”
I realize then, I have never seen Toran use his gift before. While the men argue over a plan of attack, pull Toran into a private telepathic conversation.
“What is your gift?” I ask and he smirks.
“Power Mimicry,” he replies. “I can mimic most gifts by touching my opponent and I can retain their gift temporarily even after I’m out of range. Of course, laying a hand on your father is almost impossible so my gift is useless against him.”