The Alpha's Stolen Luna-Chapter 45: Creature

Kaya

Intruder? The word echoes in my mind as I strain to see whatever it is that Magnus has detected in the distance. His wolf senses must have picked up on something, something my duller human perception can’t quite grasp. I scan the trees, the rustling leaves, the shadows—but nothing seems out of place to me.

I mumble a question under his palm, my lips brushing against his skin. He flinches slightly, the muscles in his arm tightening before he finally lowers his hand from my face.

"What kind of intruder are we talking about here?" I ask more clearly now, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, still slightly breathless. "A rogue?"

"No," Magnus replies, shaking his head slowly, his eyes never leaving the forest. They sweep over the area with sharp focus, narrowed in suspicion. "I can’t quite place what I’m sensing... but it’s not a rogue."

That answer sends a chill down my spine. If someone like Magnus—so powerful and in tune with his instincts—can’t identify whatever presence is out there, then maybe it’s something more dangerous than a mere rogue.

Or something else entirely...

"Magnus!" I shout, my voice surprisingly loud as I lift a trembling hand and point behind him. My heart stutters in my chest.

There. Just beyond the clearing, a dark, elongated shadow slips between the trees like a serpent through grass, moving too quickly to be human, too fluid to be anything natural.

He spins on his heel instantly, his entire body snapping to attention. Muscles coil beneath his skin, the tension so strong it radiates off of him like a pulse. His gaze follows the shifting darkness, sharp and unrelenting.

Then he takes a single step forward, his jaw clenched, and growls over his shoulder, "Stay where you are."

I nod instinctively, even though I know he can’t see me. My throat feels tight, my breath stuck somewhere between panic and awe.

And then it happens—before my very eyes, he begins to shift.

It takes only a few moments—a sickening symphony of cracking bones and tearing fabric—but what happens next steals the very breath from my lungs.

Magnus’s wolf form is colossal. Towering enough that even on all fours, his head nearly reaches the top of my head. He is a creature carved from raw strength and primal power, every muscle beneath his obsidian fur coiled and ready to strike. His sheer presence is overwhelming—intimidating in a way that makes the air feel heavier around him.

And yet, what truly takes my breath away isn’t just his size. It’s his fur—thick, silky, a deep charcoal black that gleams faintly under the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. The edges shimmer with an almost metallic sheen, a ghostly silver-gray that gives him an otherworldly allure. He looks like a beast stitched from shadows.

Even his aura has changed. It’s darker now—heavier. An all-consuming energy that presses down on everything near him. I can almost feel it prickling against my skin. I have no doubt that any living creature should think twice before daring to cross his path in this form.

His massive head turns toward me, amber eyes locking with mine for the briefest second. We may not share a mind link yet, but I understand him perfectly.

Stay here.

I nod once, just enough for him to see. And before I can blink, he lunges forward—silent and swift—racing after the dark figure like a living wraith. One moment he’s there, the next... he’s vanished into the forest, swallowed by the trees.

I’m left standing alone, completely stunned.

I’ve seen many wolves in my lifetime. Strong ones. Fast ones. But Magnus? He is something else entirely. There’s a power in him that’s more than just dominance. And now, for the first time, I fully understand why he is the Alpha of Blood Moon.

Where did he go?

I spin in a slow circle, realizing I’ve lost track of him completely. The forest has gone eerily silent around me, not even the usual hum of insects or whisper of wind. The others must still be finishing the first lap—it’ll be at least twenty minutes before they reach this part of the trail again.

And so I wait. Alone, surrounded by trees, with my heart pounding and eyes fixed on the path where Magnus disappeared.

The sudden realization that I’m completely alone makes my heartbeat spike.

I know I shouldn’t panic, Magnus told me to stay put, and I want to trust him, but I can’t help it. Something inside me is restless, coiled too tightly. My body acts before I can think, my head snapping from side to side, eyes scanning the shadows as if they might reveal the source of my unease.

Then, everything changes in a blink.

The world tilts violently as I’m yanked off balance, my body slamming onto the ground, the impact knocking the air from my lungs. My back hits the earth with a jarring thud. I lie there, dazed, stunned, unable to process what just happened.

And then I see it.

My breath catches in my throat, my heart plummeting like a stone.

I try to scream, but nothing comes out—no sound, no breath. Just wide, unblinking eyes and a paralyzed body.

I don’t even know what I’m looking at.

It’s more of a presence than a solid figure—something blurred and formless. Ashen white, its shape shimmers in and out of focus, hanging above me like a grotesque specter born from darkness itself.

Its eyes—if they can be called that—are nothing but bottomless hollows, black and soulless. Its mouth hangs open in a twisted, gaping expression, and thick, tar-like liquid oozes from its cracked, mutilated lips.

I finally suck in a breath—my first in what feels like minutes—and instantly regret it. The stench hits me like a blow to the face: pungent, rotten, suffocating. The air curdles in my lungs, and my stomach twists in revulsion. I want to gag, to crawl away, to scream, but I can’t.

I can’t move. I can’t speak.

My limbs are frozen in place, and terror coils around my spine like ice. Whatever this creature is, it has a grip on me that goes beyond the physical. It’s inside me now, pinning me with fear, feeding on my helplessness.

It leans closer.

The thing’s long, misshapen head dips toward me, its lips twitching as if trying to form words. It’s murmuring—or maybe mimicking speech—but no sound comes, just the wet, sticky slither of that black ooze sliding from its mouth.

Then, it shrieks.

A bone-chilling, high-pitched scream erupts from its throat, so loud and sharp it feels like needles stabbing into my ears. I flinch, my body finally jolting, but before I can process the sound, something else explodes through the air.

A loud snap echoes across the forest.

The creature is suddenly yanked away from me violently, its body thrown through the air like a rag doll. It sails to my left, snarling and screeching, caught in the jaws of something powerful and fast. Massive fangs clamp down on its side, tearing through that awful, ash-colored flesh with brutal precision.

Magnus.

Even before I see him fully, I know it’s him.

My body reacts before I can think, instinctively twisting as I force myself to look toward the scene unfolding before me.

Magnus towers over the creature, his powerful jaws clamped around its midsection. With a feral jerk of his head, he thrashes the monster like a rag doll. Then comes the sound—the awful, wet snap of flesh and bone being torn apart.

He bit through it.

Clean in half.

I can only stare, frozen once again, my breath trapped in my throat. My eyes are locked on the lifeless remains sprawled across the forest floor, surrounded by a thick pool of inky black liquid. The stench of it seeps into the air, even from here.

And then Magnus turns toward me.

His wolf eyes burn through the gloom, and as he stalks closer, black ichor still drips from his bloodied fangs. His steps are deliberate, each one measured and heavy. I can’t look away. I’m utterly, hopelessly entranced.

He finally stops in front of me.

And then, he shifts back.

What I see next steals the very breath from my lungs.

If I thought Magnus was majestic as a wolf, his naked human form is nothing short of breathtaking. His body is sculpted like a work of art—every muscle carved with precision, every angle flawless. He looks like he was molded by the Goddess herself.

A living statue brought to life.

How can anyone be this... perfect?

My mind can’t keep up. The question repeats itself in my head, but no answer comes. Just awe, and a strange ache deep in my chest.

Then the weight of everything crashes down on me.

My knees buckle, my strength gives out, and I collapse back onto the cold, damp forest floor. The world around me sways. My vision blurs, the edges of reality dissolving like fog on glass. My head is thick with confusion, as though it’s filled with smoke—dense, gray, and suffocating.

I shut my eyes tightly as a wave of panic crests inside me, but it fades almost as quickly as it came. My mind goes blank.

And then... nothing.

Everything fades to black, as deep and endless as Magnus’s wolf.