Ruthless Alpha, and his Curvy Saint-Chapter 40

Angel’s POV

Chaos.

That was the only word for what I was witnessing.

Warriors ran in every direction like ants from a disturbed nest, their boots pounding, weapons clanking, voices raised in urgent commands.

I stood frozen near my tent, trying to piece together what was happening.

The assassin was dead. Murdered.

But by whom? And why?

I tried to stop someone - anyone - to ask what was going on, but they all rushed past me like I was invisible. Too focused on their tasks to notice the confused girl standing in their way.

"Angel!"

I turned to find Lyra hurrying toward me, her face pale with worry.

"Are you okay?" she asked, slightly breathless.

"What’s happening? Where’s Uriel?"

Lyra shook her head, looking as lost as I felt. "I don’t know. I was sitting with some of the other warriors, helping them pack supplies, when suddenly everyone started shouting and running. Nobody’s explaining anything."

"But Uriel..."

"I haven’t seen him." She placed a gentle hand on my arm. "All we can do right now is stay out of the way and wait. Let them handle whatever this is."

Wait.

I hated waiting. Hated standing here useless while something terrible was clearly happening.

Because of me.

Minutes crawled by.

The warriors began returning, emerging from the forest in groups of two or three, their expressions grim. Whatever they’d been searching for, they hadn’t found it.

I kept scanning their faces, my heart rate climbing with each passing second that I didn’t see...

There.

Uriel appeared at the back of a group, his dark hair windswept, his expression tight with frustration.

Relief flooded through me so intensely my knees nearly buckled.

Before I could think better of it, I was running toward him.

"Uriel!"

He turned at the sound of my voice, his eyes widening slightly in surprise.

"Are you okay? What happened?" The questions tumbled out in a rush. "Everyone’s saying the assassin is dead, that someone murdered him, and I thought maybe you..."

"Not here," he interrupted gently, glancing at the warriors milling around us. "Come with me."

He led me away from the main group, toward a quieter spot near the edge of camp where we couldn’t be easily overheard.

"What happened?" I demanded again, my voice lower but no less urgent.

Uriel ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tight. "I was interrogating him. Getting close to the truth - he was about to tell me who hired him, I could feel it. And then..."

He paused, his expression darkening.

"An arrow came out of nowhere. Shot from the woods. Went straight through his heart."

My stomach dropped. "Someone killed him? While you were there?"

"Yes. By the time we pulled the arrow out, he was already dead." Uriel’s voice held barely restrained fury. "And the arrow was laced with poison. Fast-acting. Even if the shot hadn’t killed him instantly, the poison would have finished the job within seconds."

"Sheena?"

"She’s examining the poison now, trying to identify it. Trying to figure out who might have access to something that potent."

A shiver ran down my spine despite the morning warmth.

Someone had murdered the assassin to keep him from talking. Which meant whoever was behind these attempts on my life was still out there. Still dangerous. Still determined.

And they were willing to kill their own hired help to protect their identity.

"Angel." Uriel’s hands settled on my shoulders gently. "You need to be more careful from now on. No more wandering off alone. No more baths in rivers, no more walks through the forest. You stay where people can see you. Where I can see you."

The intensity in his voice made my breath catch.

"I understand," I whispered.

"Do you? Because this isn’t a game anymore. This is someone who’s already tried three times - the snake, the drowning, and now they’ve killed a man just to keep their identity secret. They’re not going to stop."

"I know."

His hands squeezed my shoulders once, then released. "Good. Now come on. We need to pack up and continue the journey."

The next two days passed in a strange, suspended calm.

No attacks. No threats. No mysterious accidents or deadly creatures appearing where they shouldn’t be.

Just travel. Endless, monotonous travel.

Uriel stayed busy with the other warriors, helping maintain security, scouting ahead, doing whatever mysterious tasks warriors did. We’d exchange glances across camp, brief smiles, but no real conversation.

I missed him.

The realization surprised me. When had I started depending on his presence? When had his smile become something I looked for, anticipated, needed?

I spent most of my time with Sheena, who was good company. She taught me more about herbs, about reading the stars, about the basic beliefs of werewolf culture.

Lyra hovered nearby always, dutiful and quiet, no longer trying to make conversation but ready to help at a moment’s notice.

The camp had settled into an uneasy routine. Warriors remained vigilant but less tense. The Alpha kept his distance from me, though I still caught him watching occasionally, that unreadable expression on his scarred face.

And I tried not to think about the fact that someone among us - someone in this very group - wanted me dead.

The morning of the fifth day, I woke to movement.

At first, I thought I was dreaming. Still caught in that space between sleep and waking where nothing made complete sense.

But the sensation persisted.

My tent was moving.

Not swaying in the wind - I knew what that felt like. This was different. Deliberate.

Like someone was dragging it from outside.

Terror shot through me, sharp and cold.

"HELP!" I screamed, scrambling upright. "SOMEONE HELP ME!"

The movement continued, the tent sliding across the ground with a horrible scraping sound.

"HELP! PLEASE!"

Then it stopped.

Sudden. Complete silence except for my own ragged breathing.

Footsteps approached rapidly. The tent flap was yanked open.

Uriel’s face appeared, his expression alarmed. "What’s wrong? What happened?"

I didn’t think. Didn’t pause to consider propriety or dignity or anything except the overwhelming relief of seeing him.

I threw myself forward, wrapping my arms around him, burying my face in his chest.

"Someone was moving the tent," I sobbed. "From outside. Dragging it. I felt it, I swear I felt it..."

His arms came around me immediately, strong and secure. "It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m here."

"But someone was..."

"Come out. Let me see."

He helped me out of the tent, keeping one arm around my shoulders as I emerged into early morning light.

And stopped. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

People had gathered - warriors roused by my screaming, their weapons drawn, ready to fight whatever threat had emerged.

But there was no threat.

Just my tent, sitting slightly askew from where it had been pitched last night. Maybe a foot or two from its original position.

And overhead...

Dark clouds rolled across the sky, thick and ominous. The wind howled, stronger than I’d ever felt it, whipping my hair around my face and making Uriel’s coat billow wildly.

The weather was darker than it should be this early in the morning. Wrong somehow. Threatening.

"I don’t see anyone," Uriel said, his voice raised to be heard over the wind. He scanned the area carefully, his body tense. "Angel, are you sure someone was moving it?"

"Yes! I felt..."

"Or could it have been the wind?" He gestured to the gusts battering us from multiple directions. "This storm is getting worse. Strong enough to shift a tent, especially with you inside adding weight but not enough to truly anchor it."

I opened my mouth to argue, then hesitated.

Could it have been the wind?

No. I was heavy. The wind couldn’t possibly lift me, couldn’t drag me across the ground like that.

But doubt crept in anyway, insidious and unwelcome.

"I felt someone pulling it," I insisted, but my voice lacked the certainty it had held moments ago. "It didn’t feel like wind. It felt intentional. Controlled."

"Angel..."

"A wicked storm is approaching."

We both turned to find Sheena standing nearby, her silver robes whipping around her legs, her eyes fixed on the sky.

"It’ll be impossible to travel in this," she continued. "We need shelter. Real shelter. Soon."

"I know," Uriel said. "I figured that would be the case."

"There’s nothing out here for miles," one of the warriors called out. "Nowhere to take cover except the trees, and those won’t help much."

"Actually," Uriel said slowly, "there’s a castle. Not far from here. Maybe an hour’s ride if we move quickly. We could beat the storm if we leave now."

I stared at him.

A castle?

How would a simple warrior know about a castle in the middle of nowhere?

"What castle?" Sheena asked, echoing my thoughts.

"Lord Merrick’s estate," Uriel replied. "It’s close. He’d take us in."

The pieces weren’t fitting together. Something was off about this whole situation.

"How do you know about a castle?" I asked, my voice filled with suspicion. "What kind of warrior would know of Lord Merrick’s estate, know exactly where it is, know that we could reach it in an hour?"

Uriel met my gaze for a long moment.

I saw something flicker in his eyes, then he looked at Sheena. "Go prepare to leave. Tell the Alpha our safest bet is Lord Merrick’s castle. He’ll understand."

Sheena hesitated, then nodded and hurried away.

I stood my ground, arms crossed, waiting.

The wind howled around us. Thunder rumbled in the distance. But I didn’t move, didn’t look away, didn’t let him off the hook with silence or distraction.

"Well?" I demanded. "I’m waiting for an explanation."

Uriel sighed, running a hand through his windswept hair. For a moment, he looked tired.

"Lord Merrick," he said finally, his voice quiet, "is my brother."