Amora
Fuck. Not Quinton. Please, don’t let it be Quinton. We’re not fucking ready.
I’m not sure who moves first, but within seconds of the piercing howl outside, the four of us are racing across the dark, silent cabin toward the front door.
Kian reaches the door first and flings it open, launching himself out into the night with Malix and Frost right behind him. As I come even with the door and prepare to shift, I pause for a fraction of a second, mesmerized by the sight of them leaping from the small front stoop.
They trail black smoke as they shift, morphing like shadows. It’s beautiful in a deadly sort of way, as if they’re more than limbs and torsos and heads, but something more metaphysical. More fluid. A macabre dance of shadows.
Then they land on the dusty front lawn in full shadow wolf form and take off. I hurry to follow behind, letting my own shift take over my body in the split second after I leap off the porch stoop.
Another howl lights up the night, and I put on a burst of speed, although I’m still trailing behind the shadow shifters at this point, thanks to their superior speed. But we aren’t the only ones racing to help whoever’s in trouble. We’re joined by many of the other Silver Crest wolves who appear like phantoms from the darkness and fall into pace with us. I don’t know exactly what we’re racing into, but we’re coming in force.
After half a mile, figures emerge out of the darkness up ahead near the edge of the village protections. I know that several wolves are meant to be on duty patrolling the borders, but there are way more than four forms out there.
There are dozens.
The invading wolves fan out around a massive shadow wolf. At first glance, I can tell this wolf is much larger than any of my three mates, and the shadows roll off him like they’ve forgotten he has a physical form. He hunches over two fallen wolves, blood dripping from his black muzzle. As we approach, the giant shadow wolf raises his head and surveys the oncoming horde of Silver Crest wolves, plus myself and my mates, and I swear the stranger smiles.
I know it’s Blood Moon pack wolves here to exact their revenge. What else could it be? But I have no idea who this giant shadow wolf on steroids is. Based on the wolfish sneer and dripping blood, I don’t want to know him.
For a moment, I think Kian is going to maintain his speed and send us all crashing right into a fight without any instructions. But I sense confusion through the bond, and his steps falter just enough that everyone around him starts to slow.
The invading wolves go on alert, growling and snapping, inching forward as if ready to charge us, but the massive shadow wolf glances back over his shoulder, and suddenly, all of the wolves fall silent.
And wait.
We come to a halt several yards away, the rest of Felicity’s wolves gathering around us. Cormac’s ginger-furred wolf steps up next to Kian, baring his teeth, but even the new alpha seems to be waiting for Kian’s call.
This close, I can see that while half the invading group is normal shifters, a nearly equal amount are shadow shifters. By default, they’re stronger and faster than the rest of us.
Which means we are vastly outnumbered.
An odd, screaming silence fills the void between our two groups.
Then Kian’s voice reaches out through mind speak, tinged with a hint of disgust. Quinton?
A sick feeling opens up in my stomach. That’s… Quinton? That massive, vicious looking shadow wolf? Shock turns my paws numb. I stare at the overly large shadow shifter, trying to see hints of the alpha in this new beast. But the shadow form is so different from his normal wolf form that I can’t recognize him.
My men do, though. All three of them bristle with tension.
Kian, the massive shadow shifter replies calmly. His eyes gleam a dangerous, otherworldly blue.
Kian scoffs. Figured out how to fill yourself with shadows, then?
Shadow Quinton paces to the side three steps, his head swinging. I did. Unlike your useless brother, I had no issue swallowing the shadows. Just goes to show how weak you all are. All three of you. My greatest failures.
Malix sneers at him, baring his teeth. Maybe if you’d done this sooner, we could have had normal fucking lives while you drove yourself mad trying to find a way to access the shadow realm.
You had everything!Quinton snaps, abruptly halting and swiveling around to bare his teeth at us. I provided everything you could ever want, and you threw it all away. For what? A bitch?
Frost cuts in, his tone like ice. Some wolves prefer to adore their mate rather than murder her.
Quinton roars. It’s not a howl. Not really. It’s more like the ferocity of a tiger’s angry cry. You forced my hand, you insolent little shit. And you, he adds, his gaze swiveling to me. You brought this on. You ruined everything by turning my feral shifters away from their true purpose. You forced me to kill her!
Maybe I’m imagining it, but I swear his voice cracks on that last word. There’s an almost fanatical gleam in his eye. Between the overwhelming amount of shadows in his body and his recent murder of Felicity, I think Quinton has finally gone completely off his rocker.
Nobody needs clarification on who he means by “her.” A low rumble arises all around us among Felicity’s wolves, all of them growling and snarling at the man who took their alpha away from them.
I should probably be scared of the beast that looms before us. Hell, I should probably be pissing myself in fear, wishing I could just run away, as far and fast as possible. In this shape, Quinton could snap me like a twig. This is the man who nearly killed me not all that long ago, and I have no doubt he intends to rectify that previous failure tonight.
But although I can feel fear stirring low in my gut, it’s eclipsed in this moment by the anger that burns like fire in my veins.
Lifting my nose into the air, I narrow my eyes at the monster before me. I didn’t snap Felicity’s neck. You did.
All because of you, he seethes, his voice low and dangerous. You took my feral shifters. You came into my territory. You allied with my enemies, snuck into my village, and launched an attack on my pack unprovoked.
Unprovoked?The word bursts from me on a laugh. You can’t be serious.