To protect what's mine (Amalie) novel Chapter 177

**Guard 177**

**Chapter 177: Amalie**

Beren and I find ourselves paralyzed, our hearts racing as we take in the chaotic scene unfolding before us. The air is thick with tension and the acrid scent of blood, a stark contrast to the once peaceful surroundings. Four figures whirl in a savage dance, a blur of fur and teeth driven by primal instincts. My pack warriors, trained for combat and imbued with fierce loyalty, strike with calculated ferocity, each movement a testament to their discipline. I catch sight of one of my warriors, a noble spirit, fiercely clamping down on the injury I had inflicted on the male rogue who dared to challenge us. The sickening sound of bone snapping fills the air, drowning out the cacophony of snarls and growls that echo around us. Another warrior, driven by a surge of adrenaline and unwavering resolve, sends the female rogue sprawling, her paws skidding helplessly against the ground.

In front of me, our two defenders stand resolutely, a silent vow of protection radiating from their bodies. They unleash a synchronized growl, deep and resonant, a warning that reverberates through the hall, urging the rogues to keep their distance.

However, despite the skill and strategy that my pack embodies, the rogues are relentless and brutal. My heart sinks as I watch the female rogue lunge forward, her jaws sinking mercilessly into the neck of the golden warrior. With a savage shake of her head, she tears away a gruesome chunk of flesh, and blood sprays everywhere, a crimson mist that splatters against the walls, transforming the once pristine surroundings into a grotesque tableau of violence. The metallic scent of blood now clings to our once-spotless fur, a haunting reminder of the brutality we are witnessing.

The golden warrior collapses, a pitiful whimper escaping his lips as life ebbs away. Beren and I instinctively attempt to move toward him, desperation clawing at our hearts like a wild animal. But deep down, I know there’s nothing we can do to save him. I am neither a healer nor a doctor; I cannot simply apply pressure and hope for a miracle. The wound is too severe, too deep, and too jagged for any hope of recovery.

A wave of regret washes over me, heavy and suffocating. I don’t even know his name. This brave warrior had put himself in harm’s way to protect me, and here I am, helpless, unaware of the name of the life that is slipping away before my very eyes. He sacrificed everything for my sake, and all I can feel is the crushing weight of my ignorance.

Beren, her spirit unyielding, manages to crawl closer to the fallen warrior. I can see the light in his eyes, once vibrant and full of life, now dimming with pain. They track us slowly, as if he’s desperately trying to hold on just a little longer.

“It’s going to be okay,” Beren manages to choke out, her voice trembling with emotion. I fight against the sob that threatens to escape my throat, striving to maintain a flicker of hope. “You’re going to be okay.”

‘Ru-run,’ he gurgles through our mind link, his voice strained and weak, each word a struggle.

“I’m not leaving you alone to die!” Beren growls defiantly, her instinct to comfort pushing her closer. She tries to lick his snout, a gesture meant to soothe, but the coppery taste of blood fills our mouths, a grim reminder of our dire reality.

‘T-too l-late,’ he gasps, his eyes losing focus, drifting away from us, from everything that matters.

“No!” Beren howls, a sound filled with anguish as the connection to our pack snaps like a fragile thread, severing the bond that once held us together.

“Luna!” another warrior’s voice rings out, panic lacing his tone as he’s hurled across the hall like a ragdoll.

Beren’s head snaps up, her eyes wide with terror as she witnesses the rogues converge on our last remaining warrior. This time, it’s the male rogue who delivers the fatal blow. I stifle a scream, the sensation of his link to the pack snapping sending a chill through my very core.

With our defenders gone, the two rogues turn their predatory gaze toward us. Beren scrambles backward, instinctively trying to put as much distance between us and our attackers as possible. The rogues unleash haunting howls, a chilling chorus of death that reverberates through the hall as they pursue us.

‘We’re coming,’ Aziz’s voice breaks through the fog of panic that envelops me.

“They killed—” I begin to say, but the words catch in my throat, heavy and unformed, the reality of our situation too much to bear.

‘We know, little one,’ Zviad’s voice comes through, calm and steady amidst the chaos, a beacon of strength in our time of despair.

‘You need to find a place to hide,’ Cal orders, urgency threading through his tone, pushing us to act.

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