The entire room held its breath. Fear permeated the air like a dense smog, searing my lungs with its acrid bite, almost prompting a nasty cough. You could feel alliances tearing and opinions solidifying, beliefs being questioned and redefined.
It wasn’t every day the High Table faced a potential soul-eater. Some primal instinct urged me to use my gift, to strip the life from Maverick before he could issue another command. His ice-blue eyes locked onto mine, betraying a strange mix of calculated interest and daring.
In that moment, a troubling question surfaced in my mind. Had Maverick seen the body of the guard I’d killed at the abandoned house? Did he know what a soul-eater’s victim looked like? Judging from his expression, I suspected he did.
He waited, watching to see whether I would unleash my power or choose to remain concealed. I didn’t want to accept it-just as I didn’t want to face the reality that I had already taken so many lives. It was a stark contrast to the girl I had been just months before, whose worldview had been clear-cut and straightforward.
The guards encircling the room stepped forward, forming a semi-circle around the booth where we stood. I tried to glean some emotion from them, but they were stoic-following orders without sentiment.
Sebastian’s face was a mask of grim determination, lines etched like stone. I sensed defiance in him, a rebellion against Maverick’s authority, tinged with a hint of concern that surprised me.
The realization that there were people I could trust not to betray me-people who stood by me when the going got tough-meant more than I could express.
Three guards approached, their dark hair and emotionless eyes betraying no hint of hesitation. One held a pair of thick silver cuffs, and something flickered in my mind, causing them to momentarily falter. Just as they were about to reach our booth, the main doors of the conference room slammed open.
Everyone’s attention swiveled towards the entrance, even the guards tasked with apprehending me. It wasn’t just the noise that commanded such prolonged attention, but the man who strolled confidently through the doorway.
“Ethan,” I exhaled, relief washing over me as my panicked gaze met Kieran’s.
Ethan entered the room with purpose, navigating the carpeted path between the packs that filled the room to capacity. Despite his apparent fatigue, he projected an aura of strength and leadership, showing no sign of weakness.
Dressed in a dark button-down and grey slacks, sleeves rolled up, Ethan looked refreshed, his recently washed hair still slightly damp. His usually stubbled face was now cleanly shaved, revealing a dimple in his cheek as he grinned at the crowd, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil he had walked into. Even his cocky smile, directed squarely at Maverick Billford, appeared genuine and unblemished.
Maverick remained unmoved, his gaze fixed on my mate as Ethan stopped in the center of the room. There was no emotion in Maverick’s eyes-no admission of guilt or recognition.
“What a shame. It seems I’ve missed quite a bit, but at least I’ve returned in time for the fun,” Ethan quipped jovially, giving Maverick a small, mocking bow. “I must thank Maverick Billford for granting me an unexpected leave of absence.”
“Hurling baseless accusations will not exempt your mate from the High Table’s rules,” Maverick declared, commanding the room’s attention. There was no glower or snarl of outrage in his neutral tone-it was like reprimanding a disobedient teenager in need of correction.
“Since our kind’s inception, this has been our government, and we will not dismantle centuries of success for the impulsive desires of a child.”
Fury surged within me, hot and unyielding. I felt the eyes of those in the crowd who sided with Maverick, indignant at a child challenging him.
“I may be unfamiliar with our customs and laws, but I refuse to live under your thumb,” I declared, my voice cutting through the tense silence. Suddenly, all eyes were on me, accusatory and curious alike. “Many of us see you for who you truly are, Maverick Billford. I don’t blame those who remain silent, protecting their packs and families while you exploit their children and grandchildren for power. I refuse to hide while you attempt to lay claim to my life. I will not be your trophy or your instrument of destruction.”
As tension mounted, Peter and Louis stepped forward, their golden hair shimmering under the lights. They met Maverick’s gaze unwaveringly, standing tall and fearless despite his formidable power. Louis nodded firmly at me.
“We stand with you, Luna Sophia. Each and every one of us shares responsibility for the decay of our government, for the corruption we’ve turned a blind eye to,” Louis’s voice resonated through the crowd, eliciting gasps and murmurs. It seemed Louis was well-known in the werewolf community.
Their bold example inspired two other couples to step forward-a middle-aged Alpha and Luna with dark hair and weathered faces. The woman smiled at me warmly, her compassion tempered by caution. The second couple, a few years older than the twins and me, showed neither fear nor surprise as they joined the stand against Maverick.
No one else dared to follow, but it didn’t matter. This was a beginning-a testament that there were those who noticed and questioned, who sought truth as fervently as I did.
I could hear hushed whispers all around. Some yearned to leave, seeking refuge in the safety of their territories-if only they knew how fragile that safety was. Others wished for the High Table to act swiftly, to defuse the situation before it escalated. Unbeknownst to them, my mates would never allow Maverick to take me without a fight.
Amidst it all, guards on both sides grew restless. Maverick’s men inched closer, only to be met with snarls and tension from the twins’ supporters.
“You are a deluded child, fed lies by enemies of the High Table, traitors to our kind. They poison your mind, and one day, they will control you and your powers,” Maverick frowned, feigning concern for the people under his protection. Murmurs of fear and anxiety rippled through the crowd, some believing his words.
“I am not the enemy here, nor have I ever been. I urge you not to fight on behalf of your Alpha, to stand down and yield to the High Table so my guards can take her in. This is my final offer. The consequences of defiance will be dire.”
A loud bang echoed through the room, drowning out all other sounds with a piercing buzz. Strong arms, smelling of Kieran, pulled me down, disorienting me as I struggled to catch my bearings. I glimpsed Sebastian’s red hair and concerned face amidst the chaos before scanning the room where half the witnesses had either ducked or fled in panic.
Kieran yanked me to my feet, his grip firm on my arm as we moved away from the escalating conflict. Stumbling slightly, I couldn’t tear my eyes from the fallen guard who had taken the fatal shot meant for me.
As Ethan caught up and swept me into his arms, running with urgency, a realization struck me. It wasn’t the faces of Arnold or his men that would haunt me, nor even the guard who sacrificed himself. It was his selfless act that would forever linger in my mind-a debt I could never repay, urging me to fight against Maverick with renewed determination.
Guards swarmed Maverick, ensuring his safety amidst the chaos. Though he seemed indifferent to the melee, his gaze burned with murderous intent. Kieran slashed through nearby soldiers, aiding Sebastian in holding back the advancing threats.
“Get her out of here!” Sebastian’s voice snarled, his elbow striking a guard before he turned to his brother, Williams, who, though battered, nodded in understanding. Sebastian locked eyes with Kieran, issuing a directive amidst the turmoil, “We’ll hold them off. Stick to the plan. You know where to take her. We’ll meet you soon.”
“We have to move her now!” The twins’ father’s commanding voice rang out, starkly contrasting with the carefree demeanor I’d seen from him before.
Ethan carried me, holding me close as we hurried through the chaos. Though comforted by his embrace, I struggled against it. “Let me down, Ethan,” I demanded firmly, my emotions teetering on the edge, threatening to overwhelm me.
“We’ll talk when we’re safe. Alright, doll?” Ethan’s voice was strained, yet familiar, bringing tears to my eyes. I fought to compose myself, stifling any sign of weakness as we bypassed the crowded elevators, barreling through a stairwell door marked ‘staircase’ with force.
Ethan descended the stairs swiftly, taking them two at a time, occasionally knocking down security cameras along the way. Four flights down, a commotion above startled us, dark-clad guards pouring into the stairwell, their heavy footsteps echoing ominously.
One guard leaped over the railing, wielding a blade, but the twins’ father swiftly intervened, deflecting the attack with skillful strikes. Finally, Ethan set me down, though he kept a firm hold on my hand, seeking reassurance as much as I did after being separated for so long.
Further down, another door swung open, revealing a group of guards who clearly weren’t Maverick’s men. Their leader stepped forward, his dark complexion and curly hair contrasting sharply with the tension in the stairwell.
“Luna Louis sends her regards. She’s safely out of the building and will contact you once you’re clear. We’re here to ensure that,” he informed me solemnly before we continued our hurried descent.
The clash between Maverick and Peter’s forces reverberated above us, each thud and crash a grim reminder of the danger we faced. At the ground floor, a different set of heavily armored guards awaited, their vests and gear indicating they were prepared for a serious confrontation.
As they prepared an ambush, the twins recognized their intent and dashed towards a nearby door leading to the second-floor hallway. Just as we passed through, a bang sounded behind us, smoke billowing from beneath the door.
Running alongside Ethan, our fingers intertwined, we kept pace with the others, eyes scanning for additional threats. Abandoning caution, we sprinted around corners, aiming for the nearest exit.
Turning a corner sharply, we nearly collided with a young girl. Her curly hair framed dark, intelligent eyes that belied her youthful appearance.
The tension from Ethan and Kieran vanished at the sight of her, as she clearly wasn’t harming anyone at the moment.
“Carlos need to speak with you,” she stated in a surprisingly composed voice, reaching out with small hands towards me. Before I could react, her touch sent a jolt through me, and suddenly, the floor gave way beneath my feet. I tumbled headfirst into a suite that eerily resembled the one we had just vacated, where Carlos Caddel lounged against the counter, glass in hand.