Ryker, page 17
part #2 of The Moonstone Pack Series
“Since when do werewolves use guns?” Ivy demanded, her anger rising alongside her fear. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be.
“Desperation,” Ryker said, watching the human Idahos. “They know they’re outmatched, so they resort to cowardly tactics.”
“Ryker, we have to do something,” Ivy said, her gaze darting between him and the rapidly escalating battle.
“Listen to me.” Ryker’s voice was urgent as he met her eyes once again, his own fear evident in their depths. “We stick together, and we fight with everything we’ve got. We’ll make it through this—I promise.”
Ivy nodded, swallowing hard as she steeled herself for what lay ahead. This wasn’t the first time she’d fought for her life, but it was the first time she’d done so with a pack that truly cared for her. And for them, she would face whatever came their way.
“Let’s go,” she whispered, her green eyes blazing with resolve as she turned back toward the fight. Together, they shifted and joined the fray. Ivy felt the familiar rush of power course through her veins as she moved side by side with Ryker, his gaze locked on hers for a fleeting second before they were swallowed up by the melee.
As the two packs collided, Ivy could feel the energy crackling around her, an electric storm threatening to consume her very being. She focused on Ryker’s warmth beside her, using it as an anchor in the chaos that swirled around them, their movements synchronized as they fought. Ivy could taste the tang of blood in the air, could hear the cries of pain and triumph that echoed through the trees.
Her claws dug into the earth as she lunged at one of the Idaho wolves, sinking her teeth into its shoulder. The taste of fur and blood filled her mouth as she tore at the flesh, the wolf’s agonized howl resonating in her very being. But there was no time to dwell on it; another attacker was already upon her.
Ivy dodged the incoming strike just in time, the attacker’s claws grazing her arm as she spun away. She gritted her teeth against the pain, focusing instead on her next move.
As the battle raged on around them, Ivy knew that this moment would be etched in her memory for years to come. The fear, the pain, the adrenaline—all of it a testament to the strength and courage of her new pack. In the midst of the chaos, one truth rang clear: they would not back down, not without a fight. And whatever the outcome, they would face it together, as a pack, until their dying breaths.
The scent of blood and dirt filled Ivy’s nostrils as she dodged a snarling Idaho wolf, its teeth bared and eyes wild with fury. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, and her golden fur rippled as she moved with Ryker, their bodies in sync as they faced their enemies.
A shrill scream pierced the air, drawing Ivy’s attention to a fallen Moonstone packmate. With a surge of protective anger, Ivy lunged at the Idaho assailant, her jaw clamping down on its neck and tearing through flesh as it let out a pained whine. The taste of blood filled her mouth, metallic and hot, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it—there were more enemies to face.
Ryker’s black-furred form leaped over her to take on another enemy. She felt a brief spark of pride, but her thoughts were quickly consumed by the battle once more.
Gritting her teeth, Ivy focused on the sounds of snarls and gunshots that surrounded her. She knew this wasn’t how things should be—using guns was a violation of werewolf tradition—but she also knew that she couldn’t afford to dwell on that now. Her pack needed her, and she would fight tooth and nail for them.
Ivy barely managed to dodge an incoming bullet that whizzed past her ear, leaving it ringing. Her heart skipped a beat, but she shook off the fear, choosing instead to let her anger fuel her actions.
Those cowards. She snarled, her eyes filled with fury as she spotted the Idaho in human form, his gun still raised. She knew she couldn’t reach him in time, but she had to try—every second counted in a battle like this.
But Ryker had seen him too, and his black-furred form leaped high into the air to tackle the shooter. The sound of bones crunching under the force of his attack turned Ivy’s stomach, but she couldn’t stop fighting—the battle raged on.
As she tore through another attacker, Ivy felt something within her change. The fear and anxiety that had once ruled her life was edged out by a newfound courage and strength.
And as she fought alongside her mate, she knew without a doubt that they would make it through this—together.
Chapter 24
THE WESTERN BORDER OF Yellowstone Park had turned into a battleground. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and the pungent musk of werewolves in their bestial forms. Ryker stood amid the chaos, his black fur matted and slick from sweat and gore. His golden eyes blazed as he surveyed the scene.
“Ryker!” a voice called out through the cacophony. He whipped around to see a pack member in human form pointing toward a man wielding a gun. The man was taking aim at one of their own—a young wolf who had yet to experience her first shift.
Ryker growled, a guttural rumble in his throat. He leaped forward, his powerful hind legs propelling him through the fray with ease. With each stride, he felt the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
Fucking Idahos, he thought, gritting his fangs. They don’t even know what they’re fighting for.
As the gunman came into focus, Ryker calculated his approach. He couldn’t risk getting shot, but he had to take the man down swiftly and efficiently.
As the man prepared to squeeze the trigger, Ryker sprang into action. He lunged at the gunman, barreling into him like a freight train. His teeth sank into the fabric of the man’s jacket, pulling him down with an unyielding grip.
The man screamed as he fell to the ground, his gun slipping from his grasp. But Ryker wasn’t finished. His claws, sharp as steel blades, raked across the man’s back. A severed spinal cord would mean permanent paralysis—the gunman would never harm another werewolf again.
“Please… Don’t…,” the man begged, his voice a hoarse whisper. But Ryker knew mercy had no place in this battle. Their enemies wouldn’t grant it to them, and they couldn’t afford to offer it in return.
Blood pounded in Ryker’s ears as he prepared to deliver the final blow to the disabled man beneath him. The scent of iron and sweat filled his nostrils, a constant reminder of the carnage around him. But before he could strike, a familiar howl pierced through the chaos.
Bronx?
His stomach twisted in worry for his cousin, and he whirled around, searching for the source of that heartbreaking sound.
There, amid the flurry of fur and fangs, Bronx—his massive wolf form covered in white fur—was locked in battle with another wolf. The enemy’s gray-furred body was slightly smaller, but his fiery eyes burned with ruthless violence.
Ryker growled, launching himself toward the fray. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing Bronx, who had been like a brother to him ever since they were pups.
Bronx grunted, straining against his opponent’s hold.
Almost there, cuz. Ryker’s paws pounded against the ground as he raced toward them.
He could see the strain in Bronx’s eyes, the desperation as he fought to keep the other wolf at bay. As much as Ryker wanted to let loose a torrent of anger and terror, he knew he needed to remain focused. For Bronx’s sake.
You’re not taking him from me!
With each passing second, the stakes grew higher, and Ryker knew he couldn’t afford to fail.
Ryker sprinted toward the snarling tangle of fur and fangs, his muscles screaming with exertion. The bitter taste of blood filled his mouth, mingled with the acrid scent of gunpowder that still clung to the air.
But Ryker knew it was too late. He skidded to a halt just in time to witness the final, gut-wrenching moments of Bronx’s battle.
With a vicious snarl, the gray wolf sank its teeth into Bronx’s face and shoulder, ripping into flesh and sending a spray of crimson across the snow-dusted ground.
No. Ryker’s howl echoed through the chaos, his heart twisting painfully at the sight of his cousin’s brutal defeat.
For a moment, all Ryker could see was red.
As he launched himself at the gray wolf, every muscle in his body tensed, ready for impact. The enemy snarled, dodging the attack.
In the back of his mind, he knew they were running out of time. Even if they managed to drive off this one foe, there were a dozen more just waiting for their chance to strike. But for now, all that mattered was saving Bronx—whatever the cost.
He braced himself for the next onslaught, his focus unwavering as he prepared to defend his family to the bitter end.
As he reached the struggling pair, Ryker didn’t hesitate. He leaped onto the gray wolf’s back, his claws tearing into flesh as he snarled, taking the other wolf to the ground and slashing its throat open before jumping away again.
Ryker landed beside Bronx, the metallic tang of blood filling his nostrils. His cousin’s mangled form lay on the ground, chest heaving as he struggled for breath. But there was no time to dwell on it. He had to make sure Bronx was alive.
He yipped urgently, nudging his cousin with a paw.
A weak groan followed by a faint nod signaled that Bronx was still conscious, despite the deep gashes and pooling blood.
Ryker breathed a sigh of relief, gratitude flooding him for a moment before he remembered the battle raging around them. They were far from safe. He lifted his head, scanning their surroundings for any immediate threats.
His ears twitched as he heard something airborne, and his gaze snapped upward. Ivy, her golden fur streaked with dirt and crimson, leaped over them. Her ferocious snarl echoed through Ryker’s entire body as she crashed into Ellerson, who had been charging toward them in the chaos.
Shit. She can’t face that monster alone.
He sprinted toward the dueling wolves, his claws tearing up the earth beneath him. Ivy’s teeth were already sunk into Ellerson’s shoulder, drawing dark blood. She held nothing back, driven by her fury at the Idaho alpha.
Ryker tried to find an opening to strike. But he couldn’t shake the worry in his belly—he’d left Bronx alone and vulnerable. Was it the right decision?
Ivy growled at Ryker through clenched teeth, her green eyes widened in alarm.
He spun around just in time to dodge an attack from one of Ellerson’s henchmen, the brown wolf’s teeth snapping inches from his face. Adrenaline surged through him as he countered, slashing at the enemy with his powerful claws.
With a grim snarl, Ryker turned back toward Ivy and Ellerson. His heart pounded as he watched Ivy, her golden fur streaked with blood, attack Ellerson with a ferocity that took him by surprise. Again, she sank her teeth into the flesh of his shoulder, shaking her head viciously as she tore at the wound. The alpha wolf, caught off guard by her sudden onslaught, tried to fend her off, but Ivy was relentless.
Never thought I’d see the day, Ryker mused, momentarily distracted by the sight of timid Ivy transformed into a fierce warrior.
Shaking off the thought, he circled the fighting pair.
Ivy’s eyes met his as he approached. Ryker could see the fatigue setting in as Ellerson landed two heavy blows on her side, sending her reeling.
Coming in from the side, Ryker swiped at Ellerson, aiming for the throat, but the alpha dodged just in time. This distraction allowed Ivy to regain her footing and launch another attack.
Ryker and Ivy circled Ellerson, wearing him down with a barrage of slashes and bites. The alpha’s strength was waning, and Ryker could sense victory within their grasp.
But as they lunged forward, Ryker hesitated.
She needed closure.
Could killing Ellerson give it to her?
In that split second, he changed course, directing his attack to assist Ivy in landing the final blow.
Ivy’s golden fur bristled as she lunged at Ellerson, her entire body ablaze with fury. The clash of their bodies echoed. Ivy was relentless in her pursuit, her teeth sinking into Ellerson’s thick neck, drawing blood.
The battle between them had been nothing short of brutal, each blow a reminder of the pain and suffering Ellerson had inflicted on the pack. Ivy’s heart raced as adrenaline surged through her veins, pushing her beyond her limits. This was her chance to free the Idaho Pack from Ellerson’s rule once and for all.
As she prepared to finish this battle once and for all, she knew she was not only fighting for herself—she was fighting for every wolf in the Idaho Pack who had suffered under Ellerson’s rule.
Ivy’s muscles tensed as she readied herself to slash Ellerson’s throat. The wind howled around them, carrying the scent of blood, sweat, and fear. She could feel the weight of her pack’s suffering bearing down on her shoulders, urging her to end this torment once and for all.
But just as Ivy’s claws were about to strike, a black-furred wolf landed soundlessly beside her, his eyes meeting hers. A flicker of surprise shot through her, but it was quickly replaced by understanding: Ryker was here, offering his assistance in this final act of retribution.
He growled softly, barely audible over the cacophony of battle. Without waiting for her response, he stepped forward and placed one massive paw on Ellerson’s chest, effectively pinning him to the ground.
Ellerson struggled beneath their combined hold, desperation flashing in his eyes as he snarled and thrashed, but there was no escaping the fate he had so ruthlessly wrought upon others. Ivy saw in his eyes the truth she had known all along: he was nothing more than a monster, a tyrant who used fear and pain to control those unfortunate enough to fall under his rule.
And as she and Ryker brought their full strength to bear on the former alpha, they did so knowing that they were more than just two wolves fighting for survival—they were warriors, champions of justice, avengers for all the lives Ellerson had destroyed.
Ryker’s black fur bristled, the muscles beneath rippling with power as he raised his other paw. A silent question shone in his eyes, glancing at Ivy as if to ask for her permission to help kill Ellerson.
He understood the weight of this moment, the closure Ivy needed after all the pain Ellerson had inflicted upon her and her pack. And yet he wanted to be there for her, to share in the burden of ending the tyrant’s reign.
She could see the loyalty etched into every line of his face, the unspoken promise that he would stand by her side until the bitter end.
At her nod, they turned their focus back to Ellerson, who snarled and snapped at them with wild abandon. The scent of fear hung heavy in the air, the stench of desperation clinging to the once-proud alpha. But there would be no reprieve for him, not after all the suffering he had caused.
With a final shared glance between them, Ivy and Ryker moved in for the kill, their bodies a blur of golden and black fur, their claws and teeth tearing into Ellerson’s fur and flesh with lethal precision. And as they struck, she knew that this moment would be etched into her memory forever—the day they had triumphed over evil, together.
The once-mighty alpha barely had time to let out a pained yelp before his life was snuffed out, his body collapsing beneath the weight of their combined strength.
As the adrenaline began to ebb away, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion, Ivy allowed herself a moment of triumph. She had faced her demons head-on and emerged victorious, protecting her pack from the evil that had threatened to tear them apart. The knowledge filled her with a sense of pride and satisfaction she had never experienced before—like a warm fire spreading through her entire being, banishing the shadows of self-doubt and fear.
We’ve won. Ivy could hardly believe the thought, her breath coming in ragged pants as they surveyed the battlefield. The Idahos were retreating, their numbers dwindling under the ferocity of the Moonstone Pack’s defense.
And as she stood there, bloodied and bruised but surrounded by her packmates and the man she loved, for the first time ever, she felt that everything in her world was right.
Chapter 25
TWO DAYS LATER, A crisp autumn breeze rustled through the towering pines as Steele called a meeting in the Idaho compound. Both packs gathered in the center clearing where Ellerson used to hold fights between pack members. The Moonstone Pack stood tall and confident, while the Idaho Pack appeared guarded and uneasy.
Ivy and Ryker were both there, standing close to each other. Steele’s keen gray eyes observed them, the alpha picking up on the subtle glances they exchanged. He could tell that something had shifted between them, but now was not the time to address it.
Steele’s own mate, Mila, stood next to them, watching him with pride shining in her eyes. He flashed a smile at her before schooling his expression into something more serious.
“Listen up!” Steele barked, his voice commanding attention as he stood at the head of the gathering. “I have called this meeting to discuss the future of our packs.”
All eyes turned to him, and for a moment, Steele felt the weight of their collective gaze. This was an important decision, one that would affect everyone present, and he knew he needed to be strong and assertive for the good of all.
“The Idaho Pack must accept my leadership,” Steele declared. “This is not a matter of dominance or control—it’s about unity and survival. Together, we are stronger.”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, unease wafting through the air.
Change was never easy, but it was necessary. With the threat from outside forces growing every day, he couldn’t afford to let doubt or hesitation weaken their resolve.
“Steele,” Ryker spoke up, addressing his alpha with respect. “We need to find common ground, help them understand why this is best for all of us.”
He was right. Steele knew forcing submission would only breed resentment. They needed trust, loyalty, and cooperation. And so he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp mountain air, and continued.
“Under my leadership, the Idaho Pack will have the support and protection of the Moonstone Pack. We will train together, hunt together, and defend one another in times of danger,” Steele vowed, his words carrying the weight of a solemn promise.
