I took my skin, only just, and I wavered between man and beast.
Whatever life remained in my brother was gone. His eyes closed, and his chest was still.
Phelan fell down beside me. “I can help.”
But I ignored him. I started this and had to finish it. It had to be me.
Much as I had loathed Atticus in the past and still harbored dislike for him, none of this was his fault. We were linked by blood, but it was our relationship since our birth which marked who we were to one another. This snarky, rude, aristocratic wannabe asswipe was a product of his upbringing, and he could learn to be a better person and be someone else who was happy and contributed to society.
“We were born just shy of a minute apart. You will not die. I won’t let you. I refuse to have your death on my conscience.” It would be just like Atticus to give me a final fuck-you and die.
I slammed my fist on his cold dead heart as Jack screamed, “Breathe, Atticus.”
With each smash of my fist, his body arched before slumping back.
You have to do more, say more,my wolf urged me.Tell him what is in your heart.
Tears clouded my vision. All that existed was the thump of my fist, the cracking of his ribs, Jack yelling, and Phelan mumbled, “Let me take over, Rawling,” while my wolf was telling me not to give up
My fist was numb and my gnarled fingers appeared to have arthritis.
Let your emotions flow through your fingers.
Stop telling me what to do!
I bent over Atticus’s lifeless body because I had no more strength. I’d done my best, and I’d failed him, my wolf, and myself.
“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.” I closed my eyes, not wanting the tears to fall.
His arrogance and contempt were foisted on him by circumstance. I’d been saved by people who gave their life for me. But no one had given my brother that love or devotion that everyone deserved.
“You can do this, Rawling.” Phelan had a hand on my bare back. “You and only you. I know you can.”
Grief was crawling over me, taking away my desire to fight on. But I summoned the fury I’d kept inside me for not knowing who I was and believing I didn’t fit in.
I raised my fist and hit him again. “You don’t get to leave and make me the bad guy. I refuse.”
Once more I smashed my fist on his chest. Wait, what was that? Did I shove him or was that a shudder? There was a sort of cough and a tiny breath, and his chest moved up and down, just barely.
Jack fell beside Atticus and placed her hand on his chest while Phelan whispered between sobs, “You did it.”
As we sat on the ground and people swarmed toward us, I wondered if I’d changed destiny. Were Atticus and I supposed to end up killing one another and I’d changed our path?
Atticus
I was in the infirmary, wrapped in a blanket, and Mrs. Ardilla gave me something sweet and warm to drink. Jack was beside me, being kind, brushing hair off my brow and dabbing blood from my cheeks.
I wasn’t entirely sure how or why I was here, but I remembered waking up on the ground, naked, near the sportscenter. Professors and students had surrounded us, and there was shouting and arguing.
Members of the shifter council appeared, annoyed they’d been called away from dinner. They were saying Rawling had to be sequestered and hauled before the council in the morning. Someone said I had to be taken away too.
There was blood, and they carried a body into a van as Mrs. Ardilla was given responsibility for keeping us away from the rest of the students.
“How are you feeling?” Phelan asked. He was sitting in an armchair cradling Rawling. Why didhehave to be fussed over? Someone had shoved me in the dirt and bloodied my nose. Despite my wolf’s healing abilities, I ached all over.
“Who did this to me?” I glared at everyone in the room, one by one.
Rawling closed his eyes and Phelan held him close while Jack took up the story. When she was finished, Rawling told me not to ask him a million questions because he didn’t have the answers.
