Claiming Emerald: Four Alphas At Her Feet-Chapter 149: A Message...

The smell of smoke still lingered when Kieran’s SUV screeched to a halt at the edge of the village.

He shoved the door open and stepped out, boots crunching against gravel already dusted with ash. The once-bustling market, the heart of his territory, was nothing but ruin.

Families wept in the streets. Wolves rushed back and forth, carrying the wounded, trying to douse the last of the flames. Lanterns still glowed faintly where the market stalls used to be, now they were just charred remains.

"Alpha!" One of the guards, whose uniform was ripped and his face smeared with soot, rushed forward.

Kieran’s eyes were like sharpened steel. "Report."

The guard swallowed. "Alpha, they came just after dusk. Firebombs landed in the market before anyone could react. By the time alarms sounded, the whole square was burning."

"They were coordinated," the second added grimly. "Quick and precise. But it seems that they weren’t here to destroy everything."

Kieran frowned. "What do you mean?"

"They could have pressed further," the guard explained shakily. "They had the numbers. The surprise. But they stopped at the village. It was like they wanted to... send a message."

Kieran’s jaw tightened. His gaze swept over the wreckage. The smell of burned flesh, the still-burning timbers, the too-still bodies covered with sheets, it all drove the truth deeper. This wasn’t random; this was intentional.

He turned back sharply. "How many?"

The guard hesitated. "...Twenty-four dead. Forty-three wounded."

Kieran’s cheek twitched slightly. He didn’t usually react like this, but the words struck a nerve with him. His voice was rough as he asked. "Who?"

The guards took a deep breath before replying. "Some of them were heard chanting before retreat. Survivors swear they saw the mark left on walls and doors." His throat bobbed. "It was Rick’s men, Alpha. This was the Blood Moon’s doing."

The words hit harder than the smoke in the air. Kieran’s hands clenched at his sides, veins standing out against his skin. "Rick." He spat the name like poison.

He said nothing more, because there was nothing to ask. He already understood.

Something hot surged in his chest, his wolf snarling violently inside him. Rick wanted war. And Kieran refused to take it lying down.

"Get the wounded to the medics!" Kieran barked, his voice carrying over the chaos. "Every survivor, every child, every elder should be treated first. Then the fires, put them out before the rest of the village is ash."

"Yes, Alpha!" the guards shouted, springing into action.

Kieran turned, his eyes blazing with fury. "Call the council for an emergency meeting... Now."

—

Meanwhile, Emerald had just finished her breakfast when her phone buzzed violently across the counter.

She quickly grabbed her phone, her eyes racing over the alert: there were reports, shaky and unclear, about an attack. And not just any attack; this one was on Kieran’s pack.

Her heart lurched. She tried calling him immediately. Once. Twice. A third time.

Each attempt ended in silence, straight to voicemail.

Her stomach twisted into knots. "Pick up, Kieran. Goddess, please..."

When it was clear he wouldn’t, panic took over. Without wasting as little as a second, she grabbed her keys, slipped into her car, and sped off.

The countryside road blurred past as she pressed the accelerator, headlights cutting through the lingering fog. Every horrible scenario played in her head: Kieran injured, or worse.

By the time she reached his pack the following morning, her chest was tight with dread.

And then she saw it.

Smoke rose in thin columns, curling over the charred remains of the market. Families huddled together, their faces pale and weary. A faint smell of blood hung in the air, adding to the heavy atmosphere.

Emerald’s throat constricted.

"Alpha Kieran asked us to escort you," one of his guards said, appearing at her side. He opened the car door for her, bowing stiffly.

She followed him through the grounds, past rows of damaged homes, past healers stitching wounds on porch steps. Every step deepened her unease.

When they reached his home, the heavy doors swung open.

Kieran stood inside, his shirt streaked with smoke and ash, his eyes hollow from sleepless hours.

Her chest loosened the second she saw him alive.

"Kieran," she breathed.

His gaze softened briefly before hardening again. "What are you doing here? It isn’t safe."

"I heard your pack was attacked!" Her voice cracked, the panic spilling through. "You weren’t picking up my calls. I didn’t know if..." She cut herself off, shaking her head. "I just had to be sure."

He exhaled slowly, running a hand over his face. "You shouldn’t have come. Things are about to get heated."

Emerald stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. "Stop trying to protect me. I’m not a child. I need to know what happened. The news we got was barely more than a whisper."

Kieran studied her for a long moment, then sighed heavily, conceding.

"They came in the middle of the night. Well-armed. Organized. They burned the markets, killed without hesitation. But they didn’t go further than the village. It wasn’t a conquest." His jaw clenched. "It was a message."

Emerald shivered. "A message?"

"Yes." His voice dropped to a growl. "They wanted me to know this was only the start."

A heavy silence stretched between them.

Finally, Emerald whispered, "Who could have done this?"

Kieran didn’t answer. His eyes darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Emerald caught it instantly. Her stomach tightened. "You know."

Still, he said nothing.

"Kieran." Her tone sharpened. "You know who did it. Why are you holding back?"

His throat worked. "It’s not that I want to hide it from you," he muttered. "I just... I’m not sure how you’ll take it."

Emerald’s brows knitted, her chest rising and falling faster. "I need the truth. Don’t dance around it."

His silver-blue eyes finally lifted to hers, tired but unflinching.

"I wasn’t sure myself at first," he admitted. "But the flags they left behind... there was no mistaking it."

Emerald’s heart pounded as a cold realisation coiled low in her stomach.

Kieran exhaled slowly, the words tasting like venom on his tongue. "It was Rick."