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The Cursed Alpha’s Mute Bride – Episode 04
Hunter Silver’s command rolled through the clearing with enough force to shake loose drops from the leaves. Nikolaus’s companions obeyed without meaning to, retreating a step before pride caught up with instinct. Even wolves outside Hunter’s pack recognized the authority in his voice.
Wren remained on the ground, gripping the broken branch until bark cut into her palms. The newcomer looked every bit as dangerous as the stories claimed—tall, broad-shouldered, and utterly still. Yet his anger was not aimed at her. It settled on the men around her like the edge of an ax.
Nikolaus recovered first. He wiped the blood beneath his eye and straightened his ceremonial coat. “This is a family matter, Silver. The girl belongs to the Eclipse Pack. We were taking her home.”
Hunter’s gaze dropped to Wren’s torn cloak, then to the bruises already forming around her wrist. “Three men cornered an unarmed woman in my territory,” he said. His calm made Nikolaus’s excuse sound even uglier. “If that is how Eclipse handles family, you should have stayed across your border.”
Clay moved to Wren’s side, placing himself between her and the creek without blocking her escape. “Can you stand?” he asked. She nodded, though her legs felt unreliable. He offered his forearm rather than grabbing her, waiting until she chose to accept the support.
That small courtesy nearly undid her. Wren rose with the branch still in one hand. Nikolaus watched her, fury and calculation battling in his face. He knew she could not speak, and he was already shaping the lie he would carry back to Wolfhart Castle.
“She lured us here,” Nikolaus said. “The mute has always been desperate for attention. Ask anyone in her family.” He smiled at Hunter as though the matter were settled. “There’s no reason for trouble between our packs over someone like her.”
Wren flinched despite herself. Hunter saw it. His eyes, a cold and startling silver, returned to Nikolaus with a promise that needed no raised voice. “There is every reason for trouble when a man mistakes silence for consent.”
One of Nikolaus’s companions shifted first. Fur burst along his arms as he charged, perhaps believing surprise could succeed where words had failed. Hunter met him halfway. A single blow to the chest lifted the man from his feet and sent him crashing into the ferns.
The second wolf attacked from behind. Clay intercepted him with brutal efficiency, twisting his arm and driving him to the ground. The impact echoed between the trees. Wren stumbled back, shocked by how quickly the balance of power had changed.
Nikolaus’s claws lengthened. He sprang at Hunter with a snarl, slashing for his throat. Hunter turned just enough for the claws to miss, caught Nikolaus by the coat, and threw him across the clearing. His body struck a tree trunk with a crack that silenced everyone.
Nikolaus collapsed to one knee, breath ragged. Fear finally broke through his arrogance. He had expected the whispered monster of Silver territory; he had not expected discipline sharper than rage, or strength so controlled that Hunter could end the fight without spilling a drop more blood than necessary.
His companions tried to rise. Hunter looked at them, and both stopped. “Take your future Alpha and leave,” he ordered. “If any of you cross my border again with violence in your hearts, you will not receive a second warning.”
Clay released the wolf beneath him. The two men dragged Nikolaus upright and hurried toward Eclipse territory, dignity forgotten. Before the trees swallowed him, Nikolaus glanced back at Wren. The hatred in his eyes promised that the danger had not ended; it had merely been postponed.
Silence returned in pieces—the creek’s rush, the drip of water, the rustle of a night creature beneath the brush. Wren’s body began to shake now that she no longer needed it to fight. The branch slid from her numb fingers.
Hunter turned at the sound. The lethal focus left his face so completely that she wondered if she had imagined it. He approached slowly, hands visible, stopping well beyond arm’s reach so she would not feel cornered again.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. His voice was still deep, but the Alpha command had vanished from it. “You’re safe. May I see your wrist?”
No one asked permission before touching Wren. Gertrude seized, Anneliese shoved, and servants hurried her aside as if she were furniture. Wren stared at Hunter’s open hand, unsettled by the unfamiliar choice he offered.
She placed her bruised wrist in his palm. His fingers closed with extraordinary care, warm and steady beneath the dirt. He examined the marks Nikolaus had left, his jaw tightening, but he did not cause her pain.
“Nothing feels broken?” he asked. Wren shook her head. “Can you tell me your name?” The question held no mockery. Still, shame tightened her throat as she tried to answer and produced only a faint, wounded breath.
