The Alpha's Omega Mate-Chapter 121: Like mother like daughter.

~Dahlia’s POV~

Even though I was in my wolf form, securely protected by my very thick furs, I still felt the chill that ran up my spine as these wolves circled me. I still felt the cold that made the hairs at the back of my neck stand on end.

But most importantly, I felt Amara’s fear. I even smelled it.

Hold on tight baby, hang on to me!

I chanted these words like a mantra in my head, my eyes fastened on the stinky wolves in front of me. Their eyes flashed with maniacal delight, and their fangs, protruding and dirty, had dried blood on them. My pulse quickened, my heart rate skyrocketing as they circled me like predators.

And in that moment, I was afraid. But I didn’t really scared for myself. I feared for my baby. And I was scared of all the nasty things they could do to her.

And for that reason, I couldn’t afford to die. I couldn’t afford to be injured either. I couldn’t afford to be vulnerable enough for these creepy wolves to take advantage of my daughter and I.

A flashback of our not-so-short stay at those degrading auction houses flashed through my mind and another chill ran through my spine at the thought. I shook my furry head, crouching low, mostly because I wanted—no, needed— Amara to get off me. Amara noticed this gesture but didn’t come down, and how the hell was I supposed to fight back with her on my back?

I couldn’t blame her, I knew that she was scared. But I was desperate, so I crouched again, shaking slightly to give her the necessary hints. But still, she didn’t drop. I sighed.

One particularly large red wolf stalked closer, its beady golden eyes shining with obvious contempt. He circled us slowly, coming to stand before us as he bared his teeth. Amara flinched, nearly falling off my back, but I didn’t react. Not when I have played out several terrible ways this whole ordeal could end.

Not when I had a daughter to protect.

"Shift." A voice from the edge of the cave called out to me, the tone in which he used in speaking to me was so cold and so dark, my fur spiked in fear.

I took a few steps back, hoping to see if I could escape from here but as soon as the thought struck my mind, my hind legs hit something— a mass of matted disgusting fur.

Another rogue wolf. A black one this time. My stomach dropped.

"I won’t tell you again." The eerie voice from the cave called out again, "shift or I’ll have my rogues attack you. And trust me, they’ll be starting with your very precious baby first."

His words, so softly spoken, sent chills up my spine. I tried to crouch again but still, Amara wouldn’t budge. She held onto the furs at the back of my neck tightly, making it close to impossible to get her off.

Please get off! I panicked, but she either didn’t hear me or doesn’t want to listen.

Desperation gnawed at my insides. Tears sprung into my wolf’s eyes. The man, probably noticing my predicament, stepped out of the cave, and as soon as I saw him, my breath hitched.

He was clad in a large black robe with the ugliest heaviest cloak draped around his neck, spreading out over his back until it reached down to sweep against the floor. His hair, a large mass of black strands stuck out in a higgledy-piggledy fashion atop his strikingly ugly face. And the largest scar I’ve ever seen on a person adorned the left side of his face in a criss-cross pattern.

Amara’s breath hitched as he stepped closer, but do you know what fueled my desperation even more?

When two younger men who looked just like him with strange red hair stepped out behind him. They walked straight to us with twinkling eyes, and my heart rate accelerated when the wolves parted before them like the Red Sea.

The man, the one who I now suspect leads this troop, stood in front of me. He gazed down at Amara until she backed even further away from him, and then he snarled; "Get off her back!"

I had half expected Amara to scamper off. I bared my teeth in rage, but from the corner of my eye, I saw one of the younger men raise a bow and arrow, aiming it straight at Amara, and instinctively, I snapped my mouth shut even though my rage still coursed through me like a storm.

"Youngling, I won’t ask again. Get off." The man snapped again, but Amara, even though was trembling, held on tighter.

She snapped back; "No."

Amara please...!

The man’s eyes flashed with a wicked glint before he turned to one of the men behind him— the one without the bow and arrow— he muttered; "Get her off!"

The man instantly did as told, coming over to drag Amara off me like she was nothing but a rag doll. Her loud screams of terror rang through the eerily silent forest, causing the birds perching on trees close by to fly off in panic.

Seeing as my daughter was thrashing wildly in the arms of the young man, and that the risk of her falling off my back was finally gone, I began to shift.

The man whistled. And so did his subordinates. But frankly, they had no idea what I had coming for them.

Within me, that strange dark energy buzzed like electricity, and the sight of Amara—teary eyed and afraid—crying while that nincompoop dug his claws into her arm made it even worse. I was mad, justifiably so, and right now, I wanted nothing more than to make them choke on their blood.

The painful shift soon ended and I stood in front of these men naked, not ashamed like I would’ve been. But enraged.

The larger man whistled again; "She’s beautiful!"

"She’s a ginger!"

"We could have our fun with her tonight... then probably kill her and the little one tomorrow—"

"No!" The man with the bow and arrow now aimed at me shouted. "She’s too beautiful. We should keep her for a week. Fuck all her holes until she’s gaping! And then will leave her to rot!"

Their leader snickered. I noticed the way his eyes roved my body with barely hidden lust. He licked his lips when his eyes landed on my pussy, and then he drawled under his breath; "I don’t think I’ll tire of her in a week."

A long line of expletives left his mouth when his beady ugly eyes trailed up to my breasts. He rasped; "A fortnight should be fine."

"If you start fucking her right now, you’ll be fed up in a day or two. Trust me, father!" The bow and arrow guy snorted and I rolled my eyes.

I tried to drown out most of their conversations. I tried to ignore the way they talked about my body like it was nothing. Like I was a thing. My attention was on Amara, and the four wolves standing guard behind me. If I could just have them distracted...

If I could just...

"Maybe we should have a taste of her now, then the young child later. We’re not killing any of them until my cock is satisfied—"

Those were the last words I heard. The last words before my rage overcame me. A charge-like electricity rushed through my veins and my head snapped up forcefully as a scream tore out from the back of my throat.

Dropping my gaze, my eyes landed on the bow and arrow guy and held. He screamed— or tried to— before his entire body froze up, turning to stone with blood dripping from his nose and ears. The man at the front, their father, gasped. But I didn’t give him enough time to recover from the shock.

Even I wasn’t fully recovered from the shock of my first conscious kill.

The man tried to run, and I followed. I could only remember lifting my legs once, and the next thing I knew, I had covered the distance between us. I pushed him to the ground, ignoring the way that action sent a jolt of pain up my knee.

He yelled; "Get off me, you accursed soul!"

Gone were the traces of his once cold demeanour. Gone was his stoic front and icy cold aura. Now, he trembled like a woman. Even his bowel had gotten so frightened, urine seeped out effortlessly.

I smirked at him. And whispered; "Go to hell. And make sure you end up at the deepest part where there are no holes to stick your useless cock!"

With that, I punched him hard in the nose, rammed another punch to his left eye and grasped his face with both of my hands, staring straight into his eyes.

His body trembled, a spasm tearing through him. His once tan skin turned to grey and I didn’t rise from his now stony form until I saw the blood on his nose dry up.

"Amara?" My voice came out hoarse. I suddenly felt exhausted after everything that’s happened.

It wasn’t until that moment that I remembered the wolves, and the last man. I spun around in panic, but instantly froze when I noticed the chaos in front of me— or behind me— as the case may have been.

Two wolves laid sprawled on the floor, a bloody gash on their throats. One had run off but the other stood at a far distance, growling and baring its teeth at something, or someone.

The last man was bent in a fatal position, clutching his knee like he’d been attacked.

And Amara?

She stood at the centre of it all, her hair glowing fiercely, and her eyes strikingly similar to the reflection of myself in the clear pond the night I’d found out what I was.

I gasped.

My child... oh hell, not my child too!