A Werewolf's Unexpected Mate-Chapter 32: Until the Chains Shatter

Ace’s POV

The man’s scream tore through the quiet village like a blade through silk. Before the echo had faded, we were already surging out of Chief Gareth’s house, our boots kicking up puffs of dust from the dry earth. The scene before us froze the blood in my veins.

A heavyset merchant stood panting in the town square, his face slick with sweat and his clothes torn. Behind him, he dragged two unconscious werewolves by their scruffs - one with fur like dried blood, the other midnight black. Their massive forms left twin trails in the dirt, their limbs limp as rag dolls. The metallic stench of blood mixed with the sour tang of fear from the gathered villagers.

"Attention, everyone!" Chief Gareth’s voice cut through the murmuring crowd like a war horn. "Return to your homes immediately and remain there until further notice!" His command left no room for argument.

The villagers scattered like leaves in a storm, their frightened whispers hanging in the air long after their doors had slammed shut. My wolf stirred uneasily beneath my skin as I studied the captured werewolves more closely. Their wrists were bound by strange, glowing cuffs that pulsed with an eerie blue light - magic I recognized all too well. They were nearly identical to the magic chains we’d used to restrain rogue werewolves just days before.

"Chief Gareth, what should we do?" The same man who’d alerted us earlier stood trembling, his voice cracking like thin ice. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead despite the cool afternoon air.

The chief moved with deliberate steps toward the merchant, his shadow stretching long across the packed earth. "Are these the werewolf bandits we’ve been hunting?" His voice was steel wrapped in velvet, his piercing gaze never leaving the merchant’s face.

The merchant straightened, wiping his grimy hands on his stained tunic. "Ah, the village chief!" His voice carried an odd mixture of smugness and bitterness. "Yes, these beasts attacked me on the northern road. Three of them set upon me like animals!" He spat in the dirt near the unconscious werewolves. "Killed my horse, stole my goods. These two got what they deserved - the third escaped with everything I owned!"

"Khaleed," Chief Gareth barked, not turning his head, "alert the guards. Prepare the reinforced cage immediately."

So, the man’s name is Khaleed. I watched as Khaleed sprinted toward the guardhouse, his footsteps kicking up little clouds of dust.

Ann stepped forward, her delicate features twisted in skepticism. "You’re just a human," she said, the unspoken question hanging heavy in the air. Her fingers twitched near the hidden dagger at her waist under her coat.

The merchant’s chest puffed out like a rooster’s. "Because I’m strong," he declared, his arrogant grin revealing several missing teeth. The boast rang hollow in the tense silence.

"If you’re so strong," I challenged, crossing my arms, "why didn’t you just kill them?" My voice came out sharper than I intended, laced with the growl of my restless wolf.

The merchant’s beady eyes darted between us. "I’m not a fool," he said, spreading his hands in a mockery of peace. "Killing werewolves? That’s how you start wars between our kinds." His gaze slid to Chief Gareth. "I may be strong, but I’m just one human trying to keep the peace."

The irony wasn’t lost on me - this brute of a man preaching about fragile coexistence while dragging two beaten werewolves through the dirt.

"Ace." Ovelia’s whisper was so faint I might have imagined it, but the way her fingers clutched at my sleeve told me otherwise. Her grip was vice-like, her entire body trembling like a sapling in a storm. I didn’t need to ask what haunted her - the memory of that black-furred monster in the forest was written plainly in her wide, terrified eyes.

I covered her shaking hand with mine, forcing warmth into my voice. "It’s going to be okay." The smile I gave her felt brittle, but she returned it with a fragile one of her own, though fear still clung to her like a second shadow.

"Well now," the merchant’s voice cut through the moment, oily and too loud. "You four are merchants too?" His gaze lingered on Ovelia and Ann with a look that made my hackles rise. "These lovely ladies from Thunoa Village? Absolutely breathtaking."

Before I could stop myself, I’d pulled Ovelia closer, my arm wrapping possessively around her shoulders. "We’re all merchants," I said through gritted teeth. "That’s R, my business partner." I jerked my chin toward Ray, whose shocked expression would have been comical under different circumstances.

Then, with a sudden inspiration, I continued, "This is Lia, my wife," I squeezed Ovelia’s shoulder, feeling her stiffen in surprise, "and our daughter, Ann."

The reactions were immediate. Ovelia’s breath hitched audibly, her cheeks blooming with a flush that spread to the tips of her ears. Ann’s eyes went comically wide before she ducked her head, but not before I saw the pleased smile tugging at her lips.

The merchant barked a laugh. "Really? You two look barely old enough to have a teenage daughter!" His beady eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Say, were you attacked by bandits, too?"

Ray smoothly stepped in before I could respond. "We weren’t attacked," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "We just arrived from the south." His orange eyes met mine, and in that glance, I saw the same unease in my gut.

A cold shiver raced down my spine—my wolf senses prickling as the magic binding the handcuffs began unraveling like frayed thread. The enchanted metal’s glow flickered erratically, casting sickly blue shadows across the packed earth. My gaze snapped to Ray and Ann; their widened eyes confirmed they felt it too—that dangerous weakening of mystical restraints.

"Ann," Ray barked, his voice tight with urgency, "get the magic chain from the wagon. Now." His claws were already extending, glinting in the afternoon sun. "Those cuffs won’t hold much longer."

Ann gave a sharp nod, her usual calm demeanor replaced by focused intensity. "Understood, R." She spun on her heel, her braid whipping behind her as she sprinted toward our wagon.

Chief Gareth’s weathered face paled. "They can escape?" His hand drifted unconsciously to the sword at his hip, fingers trembling slightly against the worn leather hilt.

The merchant’s face twisted in outrage. "Impossible!" Spittle flew from his lips as he jabbed a thick finger at the unconscious werewolves. "I paid 500 spina for these cuffs! The witch swore—"

"Either you bought fakes," I interrupted, my voice low and dangerous, "or you were sold prototypes." My wolf snarled within me, sensing the impending disaster. The cuffs’ magic was dissipating like morning mist under sunlight.

Khaleed came barreling around the corner, his chest heaving. "Chief! The reinforced cage is—" His words died as he took in the scene, his face draining of color.

Ann returned at a dead run, the silver-laced chain coiled in her hands like a metallic serpent. Its embedded runes pulsed with steady silver light—real magic, not the fading counterfeit binding the prisoners.

"Good," I said, rolling my shoulders. "Now we can question these bastards about their pack’s—"

A deafening snap cut me off.

The sound echoed like a gunshot as both cuffs shattered simultaneously. For one heart-stopping moment, everything froze.

Then chaos erupted.

The black-furred werewolf moved with terrifying speed, its massive form a blur as it lunged for the merchant and Chief Gareth. They barely dodged, stumbling backward as claws raked the air inches from their faces.

Khaleed scrambled away, his boots kicking up dust, his mouth working soundlessly in shock. His hands trembled as he fumbled for the dagger at his belt, but his fingers were slick with sweat.

"What in the gods’ names—?!" Chief Gareth’s roar of confusion was drowned out by the merchant’s enraged scream.

"My investment! Ruined!" The merchant’s face purpled with fury, veins bulging at his temples. Before anyone could react, he launched himself onto the black werewolf’s back with surprising agility, a wicked dagger flashing in his grip. The blade pressed against the beast’s throat, drawing a thin, glistening line of crimson.

"Ann, give me the chain," Ray commanded, his voice sharp with authority.

"Understood" Ann’s reply was crisp, devoid of hesitation.

With a flick of her wrist, she hurled the chain toward Ray. The silver links glinted in the dim light as they spiraled through the air. Ray caught it effortlessly, his fingers closing around the metal with practiced ease.

A guttural snarl ripped from the red werewolf’s throat as it charged. The merchant twisted at the last second, his body bending like a reed in the wind. The dodge sent him rolling across the dirt, his coat flaring around him. He came up in a crouch, dagger held in a practiced reverse grip— this wasn’t his first werewolf fight.

"Ray, now!" I shouted as Chief Gareth drew his sword, preparing to strike.

Ray was already moving, the magic chain whipping through the air like a living thing. "Don’t kill them!" His command carried the weight of royal authority, momentarily freezing the chief in his tracks.

I turned to Ann, our eyes locking in silent understanding. "Protect Ovelia." My voice was barely above a whisper, but she heard.

"Always." Ann positioned herself in front of Ovelia, her slender frame belying the deadly fighter within.

I had barely taken a step forward when both werewolves suddenly stilled. Their lips peeled back in identical, chilling grins, revealing rows of glistening fangs.

The black one spoke first, its voice like gravel dragged over bone. "The three of you are werewolves," Its yellow eyes gleamed with predatory intelligence. "and my instincts tell me you are strong."

The red one let out a wet chuckle, muscles coiling. "But we won’t be taken alive." The promise in those words sent ice water through my veins.

My stomach dropped. Ray wouldn’t reach them in time.

I whirled, catching Ovelia’s wide, terrified eyes just as the werewolves’ bodies began to convulse—their fur receding, bones cracking as they forced an early transformation. A suicide shift. They’d rip themselves apart taking everyone nearby with them.

"Ace?" Ovelia’s voice was small, trembling with confusion as I crushed her against my chest, one hand cradling the back of her head.

"Don’t look!" I begged, my voice raw. I could already feel the building pressure in the air, the sickening pop of joints dislocating. My body shielded hers as the world exploded into screams and the metallic stench of blood. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

The blast wave hit us like a physical blow.