58

I waited for fifteen long minutes before finally slipping out the back door. Hopefully, Chiara had managed to get the kids out safely by now, far enough away from this chaos. The snarls and growls echoing in the distance only made my heart race faster, fear anchoring me in place. I wanted nothing more than to stay. It would’ve been easier. I couldn’t even bear to look out the window, terrified of what I might see. Seven months ago, I never would’ve imagined I’d be doing this.
Rogues ran wild through the streets, only to be taken down by our warriors. The buildings closest to the fight had shattered windows, glittering shards of glass strewn across the roads. Blood was everywhere-splattered grotesquely, trickling down the fronts of empty storefronts. All I could do was hope that everyone had either escaped or found somewhere to hide until this nightmare ended.
With a deep breath, I forced myself to move. I slipped behind two empty shops, stepping through overgrown weeds and grass. I weaved my way through patches of forest, doing my best to keep each step silent. Staying behind the shops kept me hidden from the rogues, whose attention was locked on our warriors as they fought for their lives.
The battle raged in the park at the end of the street, where parking spots now stood empty. The playground was wrecked, its slides and swings twisted and broken. The once-beautiful fountain was shattered, sending water spraying in every direction. Those who had parked nearby would be lucky if their cars even started after this.
A gold wolf caught my eye, its powerful jaws clamped around a rogue’s neck. The smell of decay assaulted my senses. With a sharp twist, the warrior flung the rogue into a black sedan, shattering the windshield and warping the metal with a deafening crash. For a fleeting moment, I felt bad for whoever owned that car.
The once-lush grass was now ripped apart by massive paws, scattered in clumps across the park. I counted more warriors than I could keep track of, their fur gleaming under the sun. The rogues, on the other hand, were stained with dried blood, their coats tinged with a sickly copper hue. From years of running with my friends, I knew their wolves by sight. Carlo was the easiest to spot-his sleek, onyx fur stood out like a beacon in the sunlight.
I watched as Carlo’s wolf leaped into the air, his jaws locking around a rogue’s throat. The sickening snap of bones made me cringe. He tossed the body aside and charged toward his next target. The sharp, metallic scent of fresh blood filled the air, stronger than the stench that clung to the rogues.
I squinted against the harsh sunlight, trying to identify more of the wolves, but I was too far away. Fear clenched my stomach, and my legs threatened to give out beneath me. How was I supposed to move past this terror? Then, my mom’s image flashed in my mind, giving me the strength to push forward.
Against my better judgment, I crept closer. Now only one building stood between me and the battle. I crouched beside the cafe, its lights off and the sign flipped to “closed.” A half-empty coffee cup sat on a table outside, a thin wisp of steam still curling from the lid.
My eyes darted around, searching desperately for my mom.
Sofia was soaring through the chaos, weaving between the rogues with grace. She circled back, taking out some she’d dodged before. Enrico, her brother, used her as a distraction to his advantage. When a rogue lunged for her, Enrico tackled it to the ground.
Even Vito, with his brooding temper and childish ways, was holding his own. I watched their fighting styles, noting how each one was unique. Vito and Carlo relied on brute strength and sharp teeth to overwhelm their enemies, while Sofia and Enrico were more strategic, using their speed and agility to deliver clean kills. Together, they were deadly.
I couldn’t help but think back to my history classes. We’d learned about war, but nothing could’ve prepared me for this. The books didn’t capture the smell-the suffocating stench of blood and death hanging in the air. They didn’t explain the paralyzing fear that consumed you, the way your body refused to move when you needed it most. Nor did they mention the countless bodies scattered on the ground, their eyes dull and lifeless.
Just as I was about to turn my gaze to the fallen, I spotted her.
My mom.
Her silver fur was matted with blood, and a fresh wound shone on her ankle. She’d always said she was a warrior, and now I knew it was true. Despite her injury, she lunged with ferocity I hadn’t known she possessed, her teeth bared as she fought a rogue to the death.
My heart thundered in my chest, and regret washed over me. Why hadn’t I joined the warrior training? So what if I wasn’t good at fighting? At least I’d be out there with her, helping instead of just watching.
I was so focused on my mom that I didn’t notice the rogue sneaking up on me.
A searing pain tore through my leg as its teeth sank into my flesh. I could hear my skin rip under the rogue’s sharp fangs. A high-pitched scream filled the air, and it took me a moment to realize it was mine. The rogue dragged me toward the battle, its grip on my leg tightening. My blood soaked into my leggings, and I let out another scream, mingling with the sounds of snarling wolves.
The rogue played with me, savoring my fear and pain. But just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, it was ripped off me. My mom’s wolf stood over me, her eyes wide with panic.
“I’m okay,” I lied, my voice trembling. I’d never been hurt like this before. Scrapes and bruises were one thing, but this… this was different. I looked down at the mess of blood, struggling to see where my skin ended and the scarlet hue began.
“I had to see if you were alright,” I whispered, pleading with my mom’s wolf. Her eyes flickered with anger and fear, but softened just a little when I mentioned Chiara and the kids.
But I’d distracted her for too long.
A rogue was stalking her from behind.
“Mom!” I screamed, pointing in terror. She reacted instantly, knocking into the rogue and sending them both tumbling.
I clawed at the dirt, trying to pull myself away. I couldn’t be the reason she got hurt. But no sooner had I dragged myself a few feet than everything changed. The rogue had caught her off guard, and she stumbled on her injured leg. A loud whimper escaped her as the rogue clamped down on her wound, her snarls filled with agony.
Blue, my wolf, and I were frozen. What could we do? We weren’t fighters. If we joined the battle, we’d only make things worse.
I couldn’t make a decision. And that’s something I’d never forgive myself for.
Fear crippled me, keeping me locked in place while the fight raged on. I remembered a song Dad used to sing to me when I was scared. It was strange, the things that came to mind in moments like this.
Summoning every ounce of strength, I forced myself to stand. My leg screamed in protest, but I ignored it, refusing to look at the blood soaking my clothes. I called Blue forward, feeling my bones crack and shift as the transformation began. But before I could fully shift, my mom’s agonized howl cut through the air.
The rogue had its teeth in her neck.
My blood ran cold, and I could almost feel her labored breathing from where I stood. Every moment of my life flashed before me-every second I’d spent with her. They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re near death, but I think it’s different. It’s those watching their loved ones die who truly experience it. I could see the gaping hole her death would leave in my life.
Death is peaceful; it’s surviving that’s agony.
Everything slowed down as I forced my shift to happen faster. But I knew I wouldn’t make it in time.
A scream ripped from my chest as the rogue flung my mom’s limp body against a tree, her blood soaking into her once-brilliant fur.