I stand from my crouch before the fallen Alpha, the surge of adrenaline keeping my legs steady. Kneeling beneath these witches isn’t something I can tolerate any longer, neither is giving them the satisfaction of looking down on me. I need to be on their level. Ready. If Seren snaps, if everything goes to shit, we’ll have seconds to react. And I won’t be caught on my knees.
The witchtsks, shaking her head mockingly at Seren as she pets Ivey’s head in a parody of comfort. “Now, why would I do that?” she asks. “I’m enjoying her. It’s rare you encounter something in life this innocent. Untouched by the horrors of this world. This fragile…”
Seren’s bare foot has lifted just an inch off the floor when Malvina’s hand goes from stroking the baby to reaching for something in the waistband of her black trousers. What follows is almost elegant in its efficiency. One quick pull and a blade gleams in her hand. Curved deliberately to resemble a wolf’s claw, the serrated steel is brutal enough it could have been forged in the fires of the underworld. The crusted blood caked on the wicked metal speaks for itself. It’s the weapon that was used to cut down Lowri.
Seren turns to stone, frozen mid-step, her eyes locked on the edge of the demon-made blade currently hovering too close to her pup’s neck.
Ivey!My best friend’s broken scream cracks across my mind, frayed with the kind of fear that can only be felt by mothers. The intensity of it makes my whole body jolt like I’ve been struck.
“Don’t,” my friend pleads aloud. “Please.”
Beside her, Evara takes in the standoff like it’s theater, her body vibrating with glee. It’s impossible to tell who she’s rooting for. Maybe the outcome doesn’t matter, as long as someone bleeds. The other witch, the one with the braid, looks at them with flat disinterest, as if this is all beneath her.
My heart is in my throat as Malvina’s full attention falls to the baby again, and I catch the shift in her expression. The chilling kind of interest bordering on clinical. As if she’s examining something delicate just to see how easily it shatters. Like how someone might study a glass vase just before they drop it. I need to redirect her.
Now.
“Enough,” I snap. There’s a steady strength in my voice I’m pleasantly surprised to hear. It sure as hell doesn’t match how I feel inside, but these bitches don’t need to know that. “You said you were here for me, remember? So take me and let them go. I won’t fight you.”
Just as I’d hoped, every witch’s attention is now on me. Good. I can live with that.
But that cold dread that’s been a constant since I returned home to find this living nightmare amps up to a new level when both Evara and Malvina laugh.
“No, no, dear,” Evara chirps, skipping on light feet down the row of my girls, booping each one on the nose as she passes. As expected, Seren’s the only one who reacts, snapping her teeth just shy of the crazed compeller’s digit. “We’re not leaving without them. They’re our prize. Our fee for our aid today.” She wanders to stand before Rhosyn, head cocking as she examines the silent Fallamhain Pack member. “Even betas have a place at our auction. They don’t fetch omega prices, of course, but some alphas will still pay a pretty penny for them. They’re not built to take a knot, not that it stops these alphas. They like the fight. The damage. The way a beta’s body splits when it’s forced to take something their biology never intended.” She spins on her heel toward me, all teeth and madness. “But no auction for you, Noa Alderwood. You’re a private sale. Off-market. Pity. A latent omegaandThalassa’s daughter? You would have gone for gold.”
“She would have been more lucrative for us at one of the clubs,” the silent sister adds, her voice as flat as her expression. There’s no malice or an undertone of a threat. Just cold, clinical facts.Like she’s the accountant at some twisted board meeting, bringing the focus back to profit margins. To her, that’s all we are. Numbers. Inventory. Like we’re not trembling friends or screaming daughters who would be missed when we’re gone.
Brightside? If Seren is gone too, no one will be out there missing me. Aside from her, my adopted sister, I’m untethered.
My wolf, who’s been seething beneath my skin, pacing the ever-present cage she inhabits, snarls at this, her disagreement immediate.
Rennick. He will care. My mate will care.Her message isn’t spoken in actual words, but I hear them nonetheless. Her steadfast belief in the man making it clear as day to me.
Thinking of him is a mistake. It triggers that raw ache, pulling the same useless cry from my soul that rang out the first time. A call into silence. A plea that won’t be answered for a myriad of reasons.
Rennick, please. I need you.
Him being nearly a hundred miles away is the biggest problem right now. I have to find a way out of this on my own. My mind is a tangle of frantic thoughts, grasping and scrambling for any route that might get them out of here alive. Every possibility I cling to unravels as fast as I can think it.
But my attempt at an escape plan is short-lived.
“We need to get moving,” the quiet one with the braid reminds her sisters for the second time. It already feels like ages since she revealed herself with the rest of them, but I know it’s only been mere moments. Terror and dread have a way of making time crawl. “The others won’t keep the distractions topside much longer.” The whole time, my focus has been on the ones in this room. But that was a mistake. Of course theywouldn’t risk an attack on a town protected by both wolves and witches without backup. Someone has to keep the rest of our people occupied while these three tear through my home. Which means others, people I care about, could be dying. Or already dead. The realization turns my stomach. “The Ashvale Coven will know by now a void took out the Priestess’s border.”What is a void?“And the wolves no doubt have picked up on their Alpha’s absence.”
Across the room, Seren’s eyes drop from her daughter to the Alpha lying dead at my feet. There’s no surprise on her face. No fresh wave of grief. Just grim acceptance. I don’t have to ask. She was there. They all were. They watched Lowri die, likely choking on her own blood. When Seren looks back at me, her face is determined. She doesn’t need to speak. I already know what she’s asking.How are we getting out of this?
“I can practically hear the gears turning in your two heads. It’s darling, but pointless, just like the Alpha’s bravery was,” Malvina taunts, moving from her spot and prowling to the cubby that sits across from the long open-plan kitchen. It’s my healer station where I keep all my sterile medical supplies and natural remedies I cultivate at Potion & Petal. Ivey’s red face peeks over her shoulder, getting fussier the farther she’s taken from Seren and me. She, along with Malvina, disappear from sight and my heart pounds in my ears as I wait for her next move. The sound of bottles clinking together fills the silence before the witch reappears with a jug in her hand. “Zephira.”
The emotionless one steps away from my girls and takes the gallon-size container from her sister.
A sinking, knowing feeling fills my gut because I recognize that bottle. I know its contents and I also know how flammable it is. A new level of panic takes hold of me, making my throat tight and each breath harder to take.
Malvina, once again twirling the blade far too close to Ivey’s delicate skin, watches her sister for a beat. Then there’s the telltale sound of liquid being spilled. My senses may be dulled, but it only takes a second for the scent of isopropyl alcohol to hit me, pungent and unmistakable as it burns up my nose.
Zephira starts at the beloved deep blue sectional, trailing the liquid across the cushions and blankets, ensuring to get the plush gem-toned rug beneath before venturing away. Guilt like I’ve never felt slams into me as she disappears into Edie’s nest first and then Siggy’s. It’s like watching holy ground being desecrated. For the first time since they emerged from the room, I’m grateful my Nightingales are under compulsion. Perhaps this way they don’t also have to witness the destruction. Seren is seething, her bare shoulders all but vibrating as she, too, watches helplessly.
Zephira has just started splashing the clear liquid onto the dark green fabric draped across the ceiling when a chorus of wolf howls erupts in the distance, so loud it reverberates down into the cellar-level dwelling.
The Craddock wolves.
