Reclaimed By My Alpha (Natalia and Andrei) novel Chapter 380

Chapter 380

Mila nodded and left after that. I took the twins and made my way down to the catacombs under the estate, where the women, children, elderly, and infirmed had already started flocking. The air was thick with the musty scent of cold earth and stone, and soft voices were echoing through the cavernous space.

For a long time, all was quiet. Everyone gathered in the back of one of the tunnels, and I helped Grace keep the children entertained, offered supportive words to the others. I assured them that the rogues wouldn’t make it this

far.

But then the ceiling began to shake, sending cascades of dirt and dust down. The sounds of battle cries and wolves howling and metal clashing outside reached us, even where we were concealed beneath the estate.

And then it happened.

A sound, not from above. A sound from down the tunnel. The scrape of a boot on stone. A pebble skittering. A low

grunt.

Everyone froze. I looked up from where I had been trying to play a game with the twins, keeping them occupied, and looked down the dark tunnel toward the sound. Nodding to Grace, I slowly stood and slipped my knife from my belt. The ruby was almost hot with hunger.

Placing my finger over my lips to indicate for everyone to stay quiet, I crept forward, peering around the wall. Three rogues had somehow gotten into the catacombs and were stalking around, sniffing the air.

My breath caught as one of the rogues snapped his head up to look at me. I took a step back, but it was too late. He’d seen me.

The rogues charged, skidding around the corner. The leader grinned, flashing rotten, yellowed teeth as he took in the scene of huddled bodies and frightened children.

“Well, well,” he rasped. “So much fresh meat, all for us.”

Panic ripped through the crowd as the rogues shifted and charged. Women screamed, children cried. The flock surged back, trampling over each other in their haste to get away.

I jumped between them and the rogues before they could collide. The ruby knife whistled out of my hand before I could think, as if driven by pure instinct, and slammed into the first rogue’s throat. Blood spurted, causing another wave of screams to rise up.

But I didn’t stop. I held my hand out, calling the knife back. It returned easily.

The second rogue’s eyes widened. He leapt out of the way, slamming into the wall and causing a few stones to crumble free. The knife narrowly missed his head. I clenched my fist and willed the knife to whip back around and finish the job.

It did. The knife took his eye clean out. The rogue howled and shifted back to human form, clutching his bloody face and stumbling to the floor. His eyeball rolled across the floor, collecting dirt and dust.

There was only one rogue left. He was lunging for a group of girls huddled by one of the caskets, screaming and clutching each other in terror.

I pointed at him, channeling every ounce of anger and vengeance I felt into the knife.

It sailed through his throat as he leapt, mid–air.

The rogue was already dead by the time his body fell. The girls screamed, squished under the weight of him. Grace

and I rushed over, pulling the rogue’s body off of them, and they scrambled away to join the others.

Grace’s eyes were wide as saucers as she stared at the pulsing ruby embedded in the rogue’s throat she didn’t speak, just stared as I held my hand out. The knife, with some effort, wiggled itself free and returned to my hard

The hilt felt sated. Calm. Languid and sleepy, having just eaten a big meal.

Slowly, chest heaving, I turned to look at the huddled mass of terrified people. Max and Jane stood at the forefront of the group, and my chest ached as I saw their eyes flick over the blood covering their mother.

I never wanted them to see this.

But to my surprise, the twins took each other’s hands and walked up to me. Jane placed her hand on my tummy, and Max looked up at me with that firm, stoic gaze that always reminded me of Andrei.

And soon, the others followed. The sick, the elderly, the women and children–they shuffled over and wiped at the blood on my leathers, cleaning my clothes, my face, with handkerchiefs and tears.

And at the tips of all their tongues was one word.

“Luna…”