Aleksandr rushed to the lake, with Leo in tow right behind him. He wanted to know how the situation had escalated.
He was pretty confident in his Beta's ability to handle things but he would have felt better had the twins, Krizek and Krillen, who were among the best fighters in the pack, had come on the trip and were there to support Vlad. They had stayed behind in Mologa, however, to keep an eye on the rest of the pack. Vlad had Ilya with him though, so it wasn't like he didn't have support. Ilya was deadly, but sometimes a bit too much.
Aleksandr could inhale all sorts of scents now as he reached the clearing. He could sense the pack's fear and confusion along with the anger and rage at being disturbed so harshly. Mixed in with the smell of his pack, he could also smell blood. He quickly surveyed the land to detect the source and saw his Beta bleeding.
The rogue wolf thrashed beneath Vlad, his claws raking uselessly at the earth, muscles coiled like a storm waiting to break. There was foam gathered at the edges of his bared teeth as he snarled, a low, guttural sound that vibrated through the clearing.
Vlad held him down with grim precision, forelegs locked, weight pressing into the rogue's chest, but it was a strained hold. The rogue twisted, his spine arching and eyes wild with feral rage, as if pain only sharpened his hunger to tear free and bite flesh.
"Stay down," Vlad growled, though even he knew the command would not be obeyed.
With a sudden surge, the rogue jerked forward, nearly throwing Vlad off balance. For a heartbeat, everything moved in slow motion. The rogue's jaws snapped inches from Vlad's throat, hot breath and fury colliding in a violent promise of blood. Vlad dug in harder, claws sinking into the soil, but his injured leg betrayed him and the tremor in his stance portrayed the truth, the rogue was winning, inch by inch.
Then it came.
A roar.
Not just sound, but force deep, commanding and ancient. It cut through the chaos like thunder splitting the sky. The forest seemed to recoil, leaves shivering, birds scattering in startled flight. Even the rogue froze, just for a fraction of a second.
Aleksandr stepped into the clearing.
His presence was immediate, undeniable. Power rolled off him in waves, his coat bristling, eyes burning with a controlled fury far more dangerous than the rogue's wild rage. He didn't rush. He didn't need to. Each step was deliberate, heavy with certainty, as if the ground itself rose to his will.
The rogue tried to break free again, snarled louder this time, defiance flaring but there was something new in it now. Something fractured. Fear.
Aleksandr answered with another roar, closer and sharper, an unspoken command that carried the weight of dominance. The sound hit the rogue like a blow. His struggles faltered.
In that instant, Aleksandr lunged.
It was swift, brutal, precise. He struck with overwhelming force, slamming the rogue into the ground and tearing him away from Vlad as if he weighed nothing. The impact drove the air from his lungs in a choked gasp.
Before he could recover, Aleksandr pinned him, harder, stronger, absolute. His jaws hovered near his throat, close enough for him to feel the promise of death in every breath he took.
The rogue writhed once, twice, then stilled.
The fight drained out of him, replaced by something quieter, darker. Submission.
Aleksandr didn't move immediately. He held him there, his gaze locked on his, ensuring the message was carved deep: there would be no second attempt. He did not lift his weight from the rogue's chest. The clearing held its breath, even the wind seemed to wait.
"Enough," Aleksandr said, voice low but edged like a blade.
"You're not from the neighboring pack. You are not scent-marked by anyone, especially not Alpha Baranov, who is the leader of the neighboring pack Northern Fang. Who are you? Why are you here?"
Aleksandr confirmed that there was no smell of that unknown rogue wolf who had committed a heinous crime in his own pack, in Mologa and whose scent Aleksandr had chased that night in the city, leaving Leo's performance in the middle. He would have lost his calm if this wolf smelled anything like that fiend.
The rogue's lips peeled back in a reflexive snarl, though the fight had already drained from his limbs. "I don't answer to you. You don't own the lake," he rasped. "No one does."
Vlad circled around once, shaking the tension from his shoulders, but he didn't stray far. "You crossed marked ground," he said. "You and your friends ignored the border lines. That's not wandering, that's a choice."
Aleksandr's rich brown eyes didn't leave the rogue's face. "And every choice is based upon a reason." His jaws hovered just shy of the throat, a promise held in check. "So tell me yours."
The rogue swallowed. For a heartbeat he seemed ready to spit defiance again, but the Alpha pressed down, not harder, just enough. A reminder.
The other three wolves were nowhere as defiant as this one, Aleksandr thought, which marked him as their leader. They could have easily formed a pack of four, but hadn't chosen to do so. Either they didn't know each other that well or didn't fully trust each other.
"We just wanted to cross Lake Krasnyy and go south to the neighbouring city, Teknograd." The rogue replied finally.
Aleksandr's answering growl was piercing. His mate lived in Teknograd, the neighboring city, since he refused to come to Mologa with Aleksandr. Though Leo was currently with him, engulfed by his pack members, he hated to think that Leo constantly lived alone in the same city where these rogues were headed.
"Do you take me for a fool, mutt?" Aleksandr snarled. "If just crossing over was your motive, why didn't you take permission and follow the proper norms? Why didn't you announce yourself, if you had nothing to hide? More importantly, how dare you launch an attack and injure one of mine?"
Again, the rogue refused to answer.
Aleksandr's gaze hardened, the last trace of patience draining from it. He didn't repeat the question. Instead, he shifted and let his wolf take over in a subtle, controlled manner and drove his weight down through his forelegs. The ground gave a dull crunch beneath the rogue's ribs.
A strangled breath tore from the rogue's throat.
"Careful," Vlad muttered, watching.
Aleksandr didn't look away. "I am."
The rogue bared his teeth again, but the snarl lacked conviction now. "Do your worst, Alpha."
Aleksandr's lip curled faintly. Instead of anger, ice glinted in his eyes. He lifted one paw just enough to drag a claw across the rogue's shoulder, slow and deliberate. Not deep. Just enough to sting, to remind.
"You mistake this for a test of endurance," Aleksandr said quietly. "It isn't. Tell me why you're here. Who sent you?"
"No one sent us," the rogue rasped, voice strained. "They called us."
"Who did? Why?"
"I don't know."
Aleksandr's claws dug in a fraction deeper.
A choked sound escaped the rogue. "I'm not lying!"
"Tell me one reason why I should believe you." Aleksandr shouted impatiently.
"Please..." The rogue croaked.
Several things happened at once in the next instant. A fierce wind blasted through the clearing, driving straight toward them.
Aleksandr felt it before he understood it.
A scent.
Soft. Warm. Achingly familiar.
It slipped through the cold air like a whisper meant only for him, threading past blood and dirt and the metallic edge of conflict. Sweet, too sweet to belong to this moment. His mate.
Sasha stilled.
Beneath him, the rogue went rigid. His nostrils flared once, twice and then his lips peeled back, not in defiance this time, but in something sharper. Realization.
"Well," the rogue rasped, a crooked, breathless laugh slipping through his teeth, "that's interesting."
Aleksandr's gaze snapped down, already darkening.
"That scent..." the rogue continued, eyes gleaming now despite the pressure crushing him into the earth. "Your mate-"
"Don't." Aleksandr's voice snapped, edged with danger.
But it was too late.
"An omega," the rogue finished, the word falling heavy and dangerous between them.