Alpha Ashier's Salvation

Prologue

Ashier's heart sank as he received the news that the humans in their kingdom had betrayed them. He felt a surge of anger and betrayal, knowing that the very beings they had sworn to protect had allowed the neighboring werewolf pack to enter their kingdom and wage war.

"Your highness; the prince, everything is being destroyed, they have already entered into the palace and slaughtering the guards like they're animals. Please do something Your highness."

Without hesitation, Ashier jumped up from the throne and quickly donned his fighting clothes. He grabbed his weapons, a sword and shield, and rushed out to join the battle that had already begun.

As he ran towards the front lines, his eyes scanned the battlefield. The ground was littered with dead bodies, both human and werewolf alike. The stench of blood and death filled the air, and the sounds of battle were deafening.

Ashier gritted his teeth, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and determination. He knew that they had to win this battle, to protect their kingdom and their people from the invaders.

He charged into battle, his sword swinging as he clashed with the werewolves. The fighting was fierce and brutal, with neither side giving an inch. But Ashier fought with all his might, fueled by his anger and determination to defend his kingdom.

As the battle raged on, the ground grew slick with blood, and the bodies of the fallen piled up around him. Ashier felt a pang of sadness and regret, knowing that so many had lost their lives in this senseless war.

But he pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand. He fought on, with every ounce of strength he had, determined to win this battle and protect his kingdom from those who would seek to destroy it.

As he fought on, he heard his father's shout, "Ashier!"

Ashier felt a lump form in his throat as he watched his father fall to the ground, his body wracked with pain. He rushed to his side, his heart breaking as he saw the blood spreading across his father's chest, staining his clothes red.

Tears streamed down Ashier's face as he cradled his father in his arms, feeling helpless as he watched the life drain from his body. He couldn't believe that his father, the strongest and most powerful man he knew, was gone.

He heard his father's voice, weak but determined, telling him to do whatever it takes to protect their kingdom. Ashier nodded, tears blurring his vision as he watched his father's eyes close for the final time.

The pain was almost unbearable, and for a moment, Ashier felt like he couldn't go on. But then he remembered his father's words, and his determination to protect their kingdom surged through him.

He wiped his tears away and stood up, determination in his eyes. He joined the fight once again, fueled by his grief and anger. He fought with a new ferocity, his sword swinging as he took down werewolf after werewolf.

As he fought, he felt his father's spirit with him, guiding him and giving him strength. And he knew that he would do whatever it takes to honor his father's memory and protect their kingdom, no matter the cost.

Hours into the fight, he had dropped lots of werewolves and humans down to their death. His heart grew with desperation to win the way, and rage for the humans who gave the neighboring werewolves the chance to enter into their kingdom.

As they fought on, Ashier's heart sank as he heard his mother's cries, he turned to see her on her knees with her legs and hands tied. Behind her was one of the humans with a long knife in his hands and placed right on her mom's neck.

"Stay your last prayer woman!" He laughed before slaughtering her like an animal, right in front of Ashier.

"No!" Ashier shouted, tears rolled down his eyes at once. His heart thumped in his chest as he tried to wrap his head around what just happened.

His father was killed few minutes ago, and now his mom, "Mother," her cried out, his eyes were red and burning with rage and pain.

As he saw her falling to the ground, her body stained with blood. He knew that he had to reach her, to protect her from any further harm.

But as he dragged his injured leg towards her, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. He looked down to see an arrow protruding from it, and he fell to the ground, his vision growing blurry.

"He has been shot with the arrow of death," the one who shot him announced and the humans and werewolves bursted into laughter, "He will die a gruesome death, and we will be all here to watch that!"

Ashier shook his head, he couldn't die now, he still had to protect his kingdom and his people.

He tried to get up, to reach his mother and protect her first, but his body wouldn't respond. He watched in horror as his mother gasped for breath as she held on to her neck with blood gushing out of it. Her eyes were pleading with him to help her.

Tears streamed down Ashier's face as he realized that he might not make it to his mother's side. He felt helpless and alone, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

But then he heard a voice, his father's voice, urging him to keep fighting. He gritted his teeth and tried to stand up, using his sword as a crutch to support himself.

With a fierce determination, Ashier managed to reach his mother's side, cradling her in his arms. He felt her life slipping away, and he knew that he had to act fast.

"Mother, Mother!" Ashier called, tapping his mom's cheeks as he murmured a silent prayer that she wakes up, "Mother, please say something."

She wanted to talk, but all she could do was gasp, her breath rising and falling every minute.

His mom brought her bloody hand to his cheek and forced a smile, "S...S..Save..Save Our K..K.. Kingdom f..from the h..hu..hu.." Her hand dropped from his cheek and she breathe her last breath.

Ashier's heart sank as he held his mother's lifeless body in his arms. He couldn't believe that she was gone, that he had failed to protect her.

He looked up to see the chaos and destruction around him, the sounds of battle still raging in his ears. He felt a deep anger and sorrow within him, fueling him to fight back even harder.

He would avenge his mother's death and protect his kingdom at all costs. He would protect the kingdom from the humans like his mother said before dying.

With tears streaming down his face, Ashier stood up, his wounds forgotten in the heat of battle. He raised his sword and charged towards the enemy, determined to win the war and honor his father and mother's memory.

As he fought, he felt his father's presence with him, guiding him and urging him to keep going. He knew that his father was with him in spirit, fighting alongside him until the very end.

With his father's spirit and his mother's memory driving him forward, Ashier fought with a ferocity that surprised even himself. He was determined to protect his kingdom and his people, and he would not let anyone stand in his way.

And in the end, he emerged victorious, his enemies defeated and his kingdom saved. But even as he celebrated his triumph, he knew that he would never forget the sacrifices that had been made, or the loved ones that had been lost in the fight.

Ashier stood tall with the kingdom flag raised high above his head. He looked around at the battlefield, at the fallen enemies and the brave soldiers who had fought with him until the end.

With a loud shout, he pulled out the arrow from his back, feeling a sharp pain shoot through his body, he felt drained. But he refused to let it slow him down, knowing that victory had been won and his kingdom was safe once again.

As he looked around, he saw the people of his kingdom cheering and celebrating their victory. He felt a sense of pride and satisfaction in his heart, knowing that he had protected his people and avenged his parents' deaths. But what his mom said kept ringing in his head, she had said he should protect the kingdom for the humans, and he would always do that.

The exhaustion of the battle soon caught up to him, and Ashier felt his strength waning. He stumbled and fell to the ground, his body drained from the fighting.

As he lay there, he felt the warmth of his soldiers' embrace and the pride of his people's cheers. He knew that he had done what he needed to do, and that his parents would be proud of him.

With a deep breath, Ashier closed his eyes and let himself drift off into a well-deserved sleep. He knew that there would be much work to do in rebuilding and healing, but for now, he allowed himself to rest, knowing that his kingdom was safe and victorious.

"He had been shot with the arrow of death," he heard people whispering as he closed his eyes, "He would die soon, this victory won't last long."

Ashier opened his eyes to see who was talking, but it was no one. It dawned to him at that moment that it was all his thoughts, and he was right.

The arrow of death means death, and he wouldn't be able to escape it.