I stared at them for what felt like hours, though we only had seconds together. Onyx eyes filled with worry, voices thick and raspy with emotion. Neither looked sickly or sleep-deprived. If anything, they seemed… bigger? There wasn’t time to analyze what had changed, but I swore their muscles were more defined, hardened by the bloodthirsty determination in their eyes.
Once I was sure I wasn’t hallucinating from the disgusting cake Zack had given me, my eyes flitted across the small room. Kat and Zack stood against the wall, engaged in a quiet and rushed conversation. Zack’s eyebrows were knit together, and the sight of some kind of emotion on his face made my chest flutter.
Those three seconds were all the twins could give me before I was pulled from the bed and into two sets of arms. Neither one squeezed too hard but held me to their chests in an ironclad grip that no white wolf could break. Three heartbeats, all identical in sound as they overlapped. Tears burned behind my eyes, but they wouldn’t dare fall. Even they knew there was so much more to be done, that we weren’t out of this yet.
“Fuck, doll,” Ethan’s voice was unusually raspy, eyes scanning my face as his forehead rested against mine. I watched his throat work to form the words that refused to pass his lips.
Even Kieran, who held back the turmoil in his eyes with everything he had, could do nothing more than hold me close and pray we could forget the last few days. Their touch finally unraveled the knot of terror festering in my stomach, reminding me that I might very well die here. Nearly a second passed before I felt the absence of their touch.
“Where is Maverick?” I asked Zack, who had just finished his conversation with Kat. I locked eyes with her, feeling her relief and determination, though there was a certain smugness when her eyes flickered toward Zack.
“Him and his inner circle retreat in times like this. His life is far too important to be wasted on a godforsaken battlefield,” Zack said sardonically.
I had a strong feeling his words were a direct quote, something he had heard Maverick say a time or two. Before I could reply, his eyes glazed over; a telltale sign of a mind-link. Three seconds was all it took, and with each one, Zack’s eyebrows crept higher. When the film lifted from his eyes, he blinked a few times in surprise.
“Looks like an official order has been issued. I’ve been demoted from the Alpha’s son to killed on sight. How lovely. This better have been worth it.” He grunted, giving me a long look before stalking toward the badly bent metal door.
His sour words couldn’t reach me, not when his eyes were bright and full of life, his cheeks tinged pink with blood. I didn’t miss the three guards on the floor, or the blood that coated their clothes and pooled around their bodies.
“We need to leave before more guards come,” Kieran’s voice cut through my thoughts, sharp enough to gain my attention. I felt him thread his fingers through mine and lead me toward the door. “The team we’ve put together took out the ones in the eastern wing of the mansion, but more are on their way.”
“Wait, the mansion?”
“You didn’t tell her?” Kieran grunted, an eyebrow lifting at Zack.
We emerged from my padded cell, stepping over the broken and mangled bodies of the guards. The hallway we were in was small and narrow, but as we turned a corner, it opened up into a wide corridor. Fancy paintings hung on the walls, their frames thick and heavy. The men in the paintings were all gray-haired, pale-eyed, and strong-jawed, most with a hint of cruelty in their eyes.
Every fifteen to twenty feet, a guard dressed in dark clothing lay dead on the floor.
“I didn’t exactly have the time. I was too busy single-handedly ensuring the success of this damn uprising,” Zack snapped, but his tone fell flat when all of our attention was captured.
Mabel stood at the end of the hall, her dark clothing and eyepatch the first things I noticed. Her thick braid hung over her shoulder, and the eye I could see glittered murderously.
“Poor little traitorous Zack,” Mabel cooed, her blood-red lips twitching as her eyes flitted to Kat. Anyone could read the tension between Kat and Zack, along with the way they stood close yet apart. A grin cracked across her face. “You brought your little mate to come play. When each one of you is locked up in chains, I’ll give the redhead to the Tracker and take your twins for myself.”
Ethan let out a deafening snarl that echoed down the corridor. He stepped in front of me, blocking me from Mabel. Kieran stiffened instantly, his skin growing warm as he fought the urge to shift. His nails and teeth elongated, growing as his rage increased. The fuses were lit, already shortened from nearly a week apart. I knew that within seconds, everything would implode.
I had a sneaking suspicion that if I could feel Mabel’s emotions, they would be the opposite of Zack’s. She felt everything but chose to feed the wrong wolf, giving in to cruelty and rage to progress in life.
Kieran halted in his tracks when I let out a loud laugh, a smirk on my face as I stared into Mabel’s furious eyes. I knew what she was up to, what she was doing here in this hallway. Even better, she knew that I knew.
Oh, she hated me. More than she hated Zack, which seemed immeasurable at the time. I could see it in the way she clasped her blade, eyes darting between Ethan and Kieran as she contemplated making her move.
I could pinpoint the moment she realized attacking us would end in her death. Sure, she might manage to wipe one of us out. Perhaps, even two. But there were more of us, and it was clear her backup wouldn’t arrive in time.
Her fingers flexed, and she let go of the knife strapped to her thigh. Her eyes still glittered angrily, and even without my magic, her lust for blood was intoxicating.
“A pawn till the end,” I scolded her, shaking my head in mock disappointment. Her eyes narrowed as she read the promise in mine. Through hell or high water, we would meet again, and I’d be the one to take her life. “Until next time, Mabel.”
We darted down the hall, and I could feel the twins’ reluctance as they followed. Their curious gazes were dark, feeling the hatred I held for Mabel. Both knew she had done something to evoke these dark emotions from me, promises of death and revenge.
Zack led us down another two halls into a small room that opened to a private staircase, used by servants and maids to remain unseen as they moved through the massive house. The staircase spiraled once as we descended. At the bottom, the fresh smell of clean laundry hit my nose. I could hear the whirr and hum of laundry machines and saw sheets and clothes hung up to dry. The room was empty, free of any servants or lingering staff. There was a single door on the left-hand wall and two on the right. Zack led us to the left, wrenching open the door to reveal sunlight and warmth.
I had been wondering why I hadn’t seen any guards or heard any commotion until we emerged outside. The mansion looked more like an office building than a home, which was what I should have expected for a man like Maverick. The sight of it screamed government building, with its eggshell-colored pillars and arched doorways. The six hundred cameras attached to every wall and corner were further proof that Maverick’s time needed to come to an end.
We had exited through a side door marked with a clear “Employees Only” sign. What left me speechless were the buildings surrounding us: banks and restaurants, shopping plazas and hotels. Signs advertising the newest vehicle or designer purse stood outside shops. The entire scene, including the widened sidewalks and iron fence surrounding the property, reminded me of Washington D. C. However, unlike the home of the human President, a full-scale war was raging on the streets and sidewalks.
Wolves of various colors fought to the death, their snarls piercing the air as the scent of blood filled our nostrils. Nearly a third were white wolves, but it was difficult to discern each one’s abilities. Some were in their human forms, using magic I had never seen before. The five of us had our eyes peeled, nearly bowled over by a white wolf leaping over our heads.
We had been outside for almost three minutes, darting across the pristine lawn of Maverick’s mansion to the street where carnage and death ran rampant.
“He kept me in his house,” I scoffed, shouting over the noise. “All this time I thought I was in some underground dungeon.”
“He never thought his disappointment of a son would actually turn against him,” Zack snorted. “He thought his secure mansion would be safe and that Mabel would keep you at bay.”
Before we could do anything, go anywhere, a gentle vibration rippled across the ground. It started as a quiet, dull hum before rising in volume. Within seconds, my eyes widened and horror stole my breath. The sound was thunderous, thousands of feet trampling against the earth, snarls and howls rippling through the air as the surrounding forest and street erupted with wolves.
There were so many-they crowded the streets, leaped atop cars and even some one-story buildings. Their howls coalesced into one loud call, a warning to stop the fight, to lay down our metaphorical weapons. The fight around us stopped, and I couldn’t tell who belonged to which side. All I saw were werewolves of all shades and colors-there were no discernible sides because we were all the same species.
Fear swirled within all our emotions, because Maverick’s backup had finally arrived. With them, they brought a torrent of wolves, the colors a blur among the masses. Hundreds of eyes turned on us, on where we stood in the center of the street. We had been invisible to most during the battle, but now we were surrounded.
I hadn’t realized I’d been gripping Ethan’s t-shirt for dear life, while also digging my fingers into Kieran’s arm. I peered up at the two of them, who were looking down at me with reverence, as if committing the sight of me to memory.
I looked toward Kat and Zack, an apology burning in my eyes during these last moments of our lives, but neither was looking my way. Both held each other’s eyes, and I couldn’t mistake the fear written on Zack’s face. It was clear in his crystal eyes, in his downcast lips and clenched jaw. I wasn’t sure, but I swore that when they turned their eyes to the mass of werewolves, their fingers were woven together.
We waited, waited for the triumphant face of Maverick Billford to emerge from the masses, from the werewolves that covered every inch of street, sidewalk, and parking lot. They even littered the grass of Maverick’s mansion, passing the grounds in front of the iron fence.
The crowd began to part, werewolves standing and moving out of the way, but it wasn’t Maverick’s smile that shone like a beacon, here to save us from our own destruction.
“It seems even Death herself is against dear old Maverick,” Carlos Caddel’s joyous voice rang throughout the crowd of werewolves, shattering the ice that had rooted me in place.