Contract 14
Regor stood tense, his senses sharp as he scanned the surroundings. The safe house was located between Alabama and Georgia, deep in the countryside, surrounded by vast, open farmland. The two-story wooden house was isolated, far from any prying eyes, which made it both a refuge and a potential trap. The rogues knew exactly where to strike, and they were taking full advantage of the isolation.
The moonlight cast long shadows across the fields, and Regor could hear the rustling of leaves in the nearby trees, mingling with the distant howls of the approaching rogues
He couldn't risk transforming into his wolf form while the Prince was still vulnerable. The situation was dire, and the healer's words only confirmed what he already knew-they needed to get Elijah out of there. But Regor also knew the palace was far more dangerous for a wounded Prince than this remote location. The political snakes lurking there would pounce on any sign of weakness.
The healer, clearly panicked, approached Regor with urgency. "We must leave now! Take the Prince back to the palace before it's too late."
Regor didn't even turn to face him. "The palace is a death trap for him right now," he replied coldly. His eyes never left the door, fully aware that the threat was closing in. "He's safer here, where we can protect him."
The healer's face twisted with frustration. "If you won't listen to reason, then don't blame me when things go wrong! I'm going to report this to the King. He needs to know what's happening here." Without waiting for a response, the healer bolted for the door, leaving them to fight against the rogues.
Stupid. Regor thought inwardly.
Regor clenched his jaw, suppressing his anger. He didn't have time to deal with a coward. The healer was gone, and it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered now was protecting the Price
One of Regor's men approached him. Despite a werewolf's ability to heal faster, they were not immune to poison, which the rogues used to attack them. Because of this, two of his men were still wounded, and the one who approached him was one of them. There are about ten rogues out there, sir. We're heavily outnumbered."
Regor's eyes narrowed. They were indeed in a precarious situation, but he wasn't about to back down. "Prioritize your safety," Regor ordered the others. "Get out of here if you can. The Prince needs to survive, and so do you"
But the man shook his head. "We're not leaving sir. We fight together." He looked at the others who had the same resolute expression as him.
Regor felt a surge of pride and gratitude toward his men. Despite their injuries, despite the odds, they were willing to stand and fight. "Then let's make sure these rogues regret ever coming here," he said. He knew fighting right now would be dangerous, especially because the rogues were using poison. He was well aware that this was a suicide mission and whoever was behind this really wanted to harm the Prince or maybe ever end his life.
The rogues were closing in fast, their howls echoing through the night, Regor moved into position, his senses heightened, ready for the impending battle. The moment the first rogue appeared, he lunged forward, using his human form to strike with deadly precision. His fists were a blur as he delivered a series of crushing blows to the regie's head and torso, sending it crashing to the ground.
His men engaged the other rogues with the same ferocity. The fight was brutal and chaotic, the sounds of snarling, growling and the clash of bodies filling the air. Despite their wounds, Regor's team fought with everything they had, using their agility and strength to counter the sheer numbers of their attackers.
Regor barely registered the pain as a rogue slashed at his side with its claws. He retaliated instantly, grabbing the rogue by the throat and snapping its neck with a single, swift motion. Another rogue came at him from behind, but Regor whirled around and delivered a powerful kick to its midsection, sending it flying into a nearby tree.
He glanced around, assessing the situation. His men were h
holding their own, but the sheer number of rogues was taking its
toll. The battle was far from over, and Regor knew they couldn't afford to let up. Not even for a second.
As the fight raged on, Regor's mind remained focused on one thing: protecting the Prince. Elijah's survival was all that mattered, and he would lay down his life to ensure it
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The rogues were relentless, but so were Regor and his men. Regor's fists were clenched, his breathing heavy as the battle raged around him. But then, without warning, the rogues suddenly stopped attacking. The abrupt halt surprised him Almost immediately, the hair on the back of his neck stood up. A sense of unease settled deep in his
Something was wrong.
He scanned the area, his sharp eyes taking in the scene. The rogues, who had been ferocious and relentless just moments ago, were now hesitant, their movements cautious. They seemed uncertain, almost fearful Regor and the others' gaze instinctively shifted to the second floor of the house, where the Prince's room was located.Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.
Just as he did, a loud, bone-chilling howl shattered the silence. The sound was powerful, filled with raw, primal energy. It echoed through the night, causing the rogues to recoil. Regor could see it clearly-the fear in their eyes as they took a collective step back, their aggression replaced by something else entirely dread.
Regor's heart pounded in his chest as he turned his attention back to the house. The air around them seemed to thicken, charged with a tension that was almost suffocating. Slowly, deliberately, a figure began to emerge from the shadows at the top of the stairs. A wolf, as black as the night itself, descended the stairs with an eerie grace. It was massive, larger than any wolf Regor had ever seen, its fur absorbing the moonlight as if it were a part of the darkness itself. The wolf's eyes glowed with an intensity that Regor had seen before. There was no mistaking it-this was the Prince.
The power emanating from him was overwhelming, almost tangible. The sheer presence of the Prince in his wolf form was enough to make even the fiercest of rogues cower in fear.
Regor felt a surge of awe and relief as he watched the rogues slowly back away, their confidence shattered by the appearance of the black wolf. It was as if they understood that they were no longer facing just another opponent-they were standing before the future Alpha King, a force of nature they couldn't hope to overcome.
The rogues hesitated for a moment longer, then, with a final, fearful glance at the black wolf, they turned and fled into the night, their howls fading into the distance.
Without waiting for the Prince's order, Regor turned towards his men. "Chase!"