His Rogue Luna is a Princess (Mia and Derek) novel Chapter 53

Chapter 53

DEREK

The air was too still.

I sat in the backseat of the SUV, my fingers drumming absently on the leather armrest, eyes fixed on the tree line rolling past the window. Too quiet. Too green. Too ordinary. The kind of quiet that gnawed at the back of your neck, whispering that something was wrong.

Joe, seated beside me, kept shifting his weight. If I didn’t know him as well as I did, I wouldn’t have noticed the tension in the set of his jaw or the way his hand hovered near the walkie–talkie clipped to his hip.

“Something bothering you?” I asked without looking.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “You. You’ve been brooding since we left.”

“I don’t brood,” I said.

He gave me a look. “You’ve got that ‘storm incoming‘ vibe. And that’s usually when things go sideways.”

I leaned my head back against the seat. “They already have.”

Joe didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.

The road curved gently ahead, cutting through thick woods. The other vehicle—our lead car–was just visible in front of us. Brock and a few of our warriors were in there. We were on the move again, enroute to… well, that didn’t matter yet. Not to anyone but me.

A sudden thump rattled the SUV, sharp and deliberate against the back passenger side.

Joe stiffened. “Did we hit something?”

“No,” I said, sitting upright. “Something hit us.”

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Another thud, this time on the roof. Then another–closer to the front.

“Eyes up!” Joe snapped, grabbing the walkie–talkie. “Team One, report!”

Static.

“It’s a rogue attack! Left flank–there’s movement in the trees!”

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The driver’s window shattered and sprayed the backseat but Joe had the walkie back to his lips before the glass had finished falling. The device gave a squawk in response.

“Shit,” he muttered. “We’re being jammed.”

3

The SUV lurched to the left as something heavy slammed into the driver’s side. The driver

cursed, wrestling the wheel. I braced against the door, scanning the trees.

A flash of movement. Dark figures darting through the underbrush. Fast. Agile. Too fast for

humans. And no wolf pack would dare to so brazenly come after a powerful pack like

Silverclaw.

Rogues.

“Get ready,” I growled, already yanking off my seatbelt.

The SUV skidded to a halt, gravel and dirt kicking up in a cloud. The lead car was under

siege, the front windshield spiderwebbed with cracks. Warriors poured out, already shifting

mid–motion.

Joe flung open his door and leapt out, shifting into his wolf with a grunt. I was seconds

behind.

A rogue crashed through the rear passenger window. I met him head–on, slamming him back out of the vehicle with a vicious elbow. I could already feel my blood thrumming, my body vibrating with the need to shift. My wolf, Erebus, howled inside me, clawing to be set

free.

Another rogue came from my left. He swiped at me with a silver dagger and I put my arm

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up to block it. I could feel it connect, but no sting of a silver blade followed. He hadn’t

gotten to the skin.

Enraged, I ducked his next swipe, grabbed his arm, and twisted hard–dislocating his shoulder before delivering a punch to the throat that sent him sprawling.

Three more rogues emerged from the trees.

Fine.

I let Erebus take over.

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ones cracked, reshaping as fur exploded across my skin. My claws scraped against the

ound, massive black paws tearing into the earth. Erebus was loose–and he was furious.

I charged, barreling through the first rogue like he was paper. The second didn’t even get a

snarl out before I snapped his neck. The third tried to run, but Erebus was faster.

Always faster.

Blood in the dirt. Snarls in the air. Warriors howling as the skirmish erupted into full battle.

I saw Brock in his wolf form, tearing into a rogue with bone–breaking force. Another Silverclaw soldier hit the ground, wounded but still fighting. The driver of my SUV was on the ground, leg twisted unnaturally, blood pooling at his side.

Too many injuries.

Too little time.

I darted through the trees, chasing down the last of the retreating rogues. A blur of red ahead—he was fast, but not fast enough. I lunged, tackled him mid–run, and drove us both

into the ground. My teeth found his neck.

One shake. Dead.

I breathed heavily, ears twitching to pick up any more signs of movement. But the woods

were silent now.

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They were gone.

Testing our defenses. Probing.

Cowards.

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I padded back through the brush, my fur matted and streaked with blood that wasn’t mine. When I reached the vehicles, I shifted back, breathing hard as my body knitted itself together, returning to its human shape.

Naked and pissed, I stalked back to the SUV, grabbing a spare pair of clothes from the duffel bag in the back. My suit jacket–my best one, damn it—was sliced, but I didn’t have an extra. I put it on over a fresh shirt, buttoning it with quick, angry fingers.

Brock limped toward me, shifting back as he did, a gash bleeding sluggishly down his side. “Four of them dead,” he said. “Two of ours are injured. Driver’s got a busted leg and a head wound, but he’s breathing.”

“Take the injured back in the lead car,” I said flatly. “Make sure they get treated.”

He hesitated. “And you?”

“I’m still going,” I said. “Joe’s with me.”

“You sure that’s wise, Alpha?” Brock asked.

I looked past him, at the blood in the dirt, at the forest that had swallowed our attackers. “They’re gone. This wasn’t a real attack. It was a test.”

Brock’s jaw tensed. “A probe.”

“Exactly.”

He didn’t argue further. Just nodded grimly and started calling out orders.

Joe returned to my side, now dressed, a cut on his temple slowly sealing over. “We’re still going?” he muttered.

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“Yes,” I hissed, in no mood to argue.

He studied me a beat longer. “You gonna tell me why?”

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