I can barely think for the rich, coppery tang in the air. Someone is bleeding, and they’re doing a lot of it. They might not have much more time. And it’s her, I know that now, or else why would her father be so close to essentially committing suicide. “Respectfully, while I don’t understand the dynamics of the situation, years of training won’t let me walk away. Your wolves sleep inside?”
“Some of them,” Benedict grunts.
“We don’t allow murder to take place in the sleeping area,” I explain before adding, “I’m sure you frown upon that as well.” I don’t want to insult them.
Daniel nods. “We do.” It doesn’t look like it from where I’m standing.
“I’m sure you’ll agree we can’t afford to lose any pack member in the face of what we’re up against.” I allow my gaze to bounce back and forth between the wolves, though I’m clearly speaking to the alpha. “It would be a crime. We need everybody we can spare against these witches.”
Forrest steps up beside me, grunting in agreement before sniffing the air. “If we don’t do something soon, there won’t be anyone to save.”
“Very well.” The alpha’s between a rock and a hard place; that much is obvious. He has to go along or else risk making himself look like a careless leader willing to play it fast and loose with the lives of his pack members—and in the presence of another alpha’s sons. He’s practically breaking his teeth, they’re gritted so hard. “Go ahead and see what you can do.”
Now it’s a matter of living up to my word. If I can face down dozens of bloodthirsty, power-hungry witches at once, a handful of young wolves aren’t a threat.
“Look at you, so invested in pack relations.” Forrest is still high off the humor of the situation. It was sort of gratifying, watching Daniel fight to pull himself together once he realized they weren’t alone. “So what if a wolf gets killed? If that’s how the alpha wants it, he must have a reason.”
I can’t put it into words. “It seems… unfair.”
He snorts. “Unfair? Since when does that matter?”
“Since now, I guess.” I can practically taste the blood, the scent thick and cloying. It must be flowing in a river by now. Forrest might be willing to defer to the alpha’s decision, but I can’t make it work out in my head. What kind of alpha leaves a defenseless wolf at the mercy of something they can’t fight against? How could he stand there and leave her to die?
I have no idea what I’m thinking.
It doesn’t matter. We need to find the source of the blood, and now. Forrest knows it, too. “Better hurry before it’s too late,” he tells me, like this is all on me. “Or else you’ll end up being just another big, bad wolf.”
7
LILI
Their voices are a murderous, hate-filled chorus. And it seems like they only know one song. A song about me.
“Do it!”
“End her!”
“Kill the fucking freak! Do it, Dex!”
I’m here, but I’m not here. Those vicious, overlapping voices? I hear them, and I know the people they belong to are close by, but they sound so far away. They might as well be on the moon that now shines down on me through the window closest to where Dexter let me fall when he hit me for the millionth time.
I manage to pry one of my eyes open, and the glow I sensed from behind my eyelids only gets brighter. I flinch away from it, which seems funny. Why am I flinching away from a glaring light when my entire body is wracked with agonizing pain?
The moon has never been this bright, like a spotlight shining down on me. The light is beautiful and silvery, and the moon itself glows like a pearl up there.
But wait. That can’t be true. Even now, bloody and hurting from head to toe and surrounded by wolves who want me dead, I know it’s impossible. It’s the new moon. The sky is dark except for the stars—it was when I was down at the lake. So why do I see a bright, shining moon up there?
It’s so weird. I can’t shake the idea that it’s reaching out to me. Beckoning me, inviting me to join it. And even though I know it’s crazy, and I’m probably hallucinating—maybe even hanging in limbo between life and death—I want to go where it leads me. Because deep down inside, I know there would be no pain. No more suffering. My life is draining out of me as Dexter walks around me in a slow circle, announcing to his friends how much pleasure he’s about to take in killing me once and for all. He doesn’t need to announce how much it’s going to hurt. I’m already bleeding all over from so many wounds I don’t think I could count them all. It’s soaked into my dress, which is now stuck to my skin, and my hair hangs in blood-soaked clumps around my face.