The Alpha’s Cursed Bride

The dense forest buzzed with tension. A chill wind swept through the clearing, rustling the leaves above and carrying with it the scent of impending violence. The group of men and women stood in a tight circle, their breaths misting in the cold air. They were dressed in dark, practical clothing, their faces hardened by years of battle.

At the center of the circle stood a man with sharp features and piercing grey eyes. His presence was commanding, his stance unyielding. He held a blade in one hand, its edge gleaming under the moonlight. The other hand gripped a weathered journal, its leather cover worn with age. The emblem of a snarling wolf was etched into its surface.

"Tonight," the man began, his voice low but carrying with ease, "we honor those we've lost. Their blood calls for vengeance, and we will answer."

The group murmured their agreement, their eyes filled with determination and rage.

The man—Marcus, their leader—lifted the journal for all to see. "This," he said, "is the legacy of our fight. A record of every betrayal, every sacrifice. It reminds us why we cannot falter."

A younger man stepped forward, his fists clenched at his sides. "They think they're untouchable," he said, his voice trembling with barely contained anger. "They hide in their dens and think we'll forget what they've done."

Marcus's gaze flicked to him, sharp and calculating. "Do you forget, Ethan?"

The younger man shook his head fiercely. "Never."

"Good," Marcus said, his tone approving. "Because forgetting is the first step to defeat. And we cannot afford defeat. Not now."

The group grew silent, their attention fixed on Marcus as he turned to the fire burning in the center of the clearing. He opened the journal, his eyes scanning its pages before he began to read aloud.

"They call us hunters, but they do not understand what that means. We do not hunt for sport. We hunt for justice. For balance. For survival."

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Alison wasn't here, but if she were, she might have recognized the names written in that journal. Names of wolves and humans alike, their fates intertwined in a centuries-old conflict.

"We've lost too much to let them win," Marcus continued, his voice rising. "Our families. Our friends. Our homes. And now, they think they've found a weapon—a girl who can tip the scales in their favor."

The group stiffened, their murmurs growing louder.

"She's no weapon," Marcus spat, his eyes darkening. "She's a curse. A danger to us all. And if they succeed in harnessing her power, it will be the end of everything we've fought for."

A woman with a scar running down her cheek stepped forward. "What's the plan, Marcus? They're holed up in that fortress like they own the world. We can't just storm in blind."

Marcus smirked, his expression cold. "We won't storm in blind. We'll make them come to us."

The group exchanged uncertain glances, but none dared to question him.

Marcus continued, his tone turning icy. "Their leader—Kane—thinks he can protect her. But he's just as vulnerable as the rest of them. We'll cut off his resources, weaken his pack. And when they're desperate, they'll bring her out."

"And then?" Ethan asked, his voice quieter now.

"Then we end it," Marcus said, his words final. "No more games. No more delays. We find the girl, and we put her down."

The fire crackled, casting eerie shadows across their faces. No one spoke, but the weight of their mission settled heavily on their shoulders. Each of them knew what was at stake. Each of them was prepared to do whatever it took.

Marcus reached into his pocket, pulling out a small vial of liquid. It shimmered faintly in the firelight, its contents pale and unassuming. He held it up for the group to see.

"This is wolfsbane," he said, his tone reverent. "The only thing that can level the playing field. It's our edge against their strength."

The group murmured in approval, their fear replaced by grim determination.

Marcus handed the vial to Ethan. "You'll lead the first strike," he said. "Test their defenses. See how far they're willing to go to protect her."

Ethan nodded, his grip firm around the vial. "I won't let you down."

"You'd better not," Marcus said, his voice a low growl. "Because if we fail, there won't be a second chance."

The group dispersed slowly, their movements silent and purposeful. The clearing emptied, leaving Marcus alone by the fire. He stared into the flames, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, he allowed himself to think of his sister—the one who had been taken from him all those years ago. The one the wolves had torn apart. He clenched his fists, the memory sharpening his resolve.

"This ends now," he muttered, his voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire. "No more wolves. No more lies. No more white tigers."