I start sliding along the wall toward the door, but Daniel shakes his head. “You don’t have to go.” Okay, then. I stay silent and try to make myself as small as possible before he starts addressing the gathered council members as they take seats around the room. The room vibrates with power and energy that I can only ever imagine having.
“I’ll get right to the point,” he says, sighing. “I’ve been on the phone with the other packs since sunrise, and there’s only one conclusion we can arrive at. The witches are on the move, and their powers are growing. As I speak, the Silver Shadow Pack battles with them just beyond the pack’s border.”
“They’re that close?” my father asks. The Silver Shadow Pack shares our western border, meaning the witches are one territory away from us. If they break through the border, there’s nothing stopping them from knocking on our door.
“And their powers are growing. Do you think they could’ve made it this close ten years ago? Or even five?” No wonder Daniel looks so worried. “And if they begin claiming territory like they did before the last uprising, you know what will happen next.”
“Those bloodsucking vampires will decide to rear their ugly heads again,” Dad grunts, followed by the growls of the others. I wasn’t born when the last uprising took place, but I’ve heard stories. We all have, practically from the time we were old enough for bedtime stories. I used to have nightmares about them. That could happen again?
“We need to prepare,” Daniel announces. “The surrounding packs are coming in to unite with us for this, including the Silver Shadows. Today’s battle is shaping up to be a win for Connor and his pack, and we believe there will be enough time to shore up our defenses before those witches decide to attack again.”
“This is war, then,” Mom murmurs. Her eyes sparkle, and the beginning of a smile forms.
“Damn right, it is.” The energy in the room has shifted and is becoming more intense with every shallow breath I take. There’s muttering and growling about ripping out throats and beating hearts, about making witch blood flow through the streets. They’re ready to kill, and there hasn’t been so much as a hint of fighting in our territory. How much worse will it get once the other packs get here?
The hair on the back of my neck rises at the thought. Something’s wrong about all of this, but I can’t put my finger on it. Not that anyone would listen if I could.
2
WILDE
Singed fur, copper, and the scent of rotting flesh fill the air and burns my nostrils.
No matter how many times I face death, the smell will never be something I’m used to.
Rotting flesh? The fight’s barely over, and the bodies haven’t even had time to decay, and yet the magic in the air all around us is already at work destroying what’s managed to survive.
It’s incredible how a battle looks so different once it’s finished. Once the rush of adrenaline leaves a man’s system, and he’s left looking out over the carnage. Carnage he would have been part of were it not for the last-second efforts of his brother.
Forrest stands to my left, surveying the damage in the healer’s tent. Bodies lay across cots, and where there were no longer cots available, healers and those still able to be of use took to spreading blankets across the ground for even more wounded wolves to rest on.
Ground that is now soaked with blood in many places. I step over a puddle of congealed blood on my way to check on Brady. He was no more than twenty feet away from me when he was hit with a witch’s firebolt. Brady’s missing half the skin on his face. At least, that’s the way it looks from where I’m standing.
He writhes on the cot, barely able to hold back his anguish. I grip his hand, miraculously uninjured and smooth. “Hey. You’ve got this. You’re too fucking stubborn not to.”
What might have been a smile in better times looks more like a pained grimace now. “You think… some witch… can stop me?”
“Not a fucking chance.” I lean down, murmuring in his uninjured ear. “Do me a favor and take it easy on the healers. Listen for once when they tell you what to do.”
“Like you would?” I can’t argue with him on that, so all I do is squeeze his hand before moving on. It could have been me. Just like it could have been me that burst into flames if it hadn’t been for Forrest throwing himself on top of me, knocking us both to the ground. The tree behind me took the damage and is now nothing but smoldering embers.
Another wounded pack member, then another, and on and on. It’s like I’m looking back at my own past as I visit with them, chatting with the ones capable of speaking, checking in with the healers to get a feel for the condition of those who can’t. I know all of them, every single one. I went to school with some of them, spent Saturday afternoons training with them, and Sunday afternoons playing sports with them when we were free to enjoy ourselves.