Kieran’s rage consumed him, heating his blood until it boiled as it pumped through his veins. This violent emotion gave his strength a savage edge. Ethan, on the other hand, had a different approach. He could breathe through his rage, using it to fuel his thoughts and strategies. Plans flitted through his mind at a rapid pace, many resembling football plays that marked where Mabel, the Tracker, and the two guards stood.
Despite the sinking feeling that threatened to overtake me, I refused to give up. We were outnumbered, and I couldn’t use my magic with Mabel present. My combat training was rudimentary at best, but I hadn’t come this far by surrendering. With my mates at my side, failure was not an option.
Mabel hadn’t become Maverick Billford’s personal assassin for her doll-like smile and charm. Like a poisonous flower, her beauty was a distraction before the kill. She sidestepped just as Kieran’s teeth snapped down where her neck had been. Her eyes never left mine, her smile unwavering.
A reckless plan formed in my mind. I closed my thoughts off from the twins, knowing they would try to stop me. ‘Take out the guards and the Tracker,’ I commanded through the mind-link, ignoring Ethan’s incredulous look. ‘I’ll take down Mabel.’
Kieran obeyed instantly, letting out an ear-piercing snarl as he lunged at one of the guards. The Tracker shifted, smelling even worse in wolf form. Ethan charged the second guard before he could reach me, giving me a clear path to Mabel.
I sprinted towards her, making sure Ethan had no time to stop me. The second guard was in the midst of shifting, but Ethan intercepted him. I had to play this perfectly. Feigning hesitation, I glanced at the knives strapped to Mabel’s waist and thighs, then took a step back.
“Power is wasted on the weak,” she said softly, disappointment lacing her voice. “How you were given so much of it is beyond my understanding.” Her lips twitched into a sensual smile as she unlatched the knives and let them clatter to the ground. “I don’t even need a weapon to kill you, Sophia. Run or face me, it will be your blood staining the ground.”
Amid the snarling, my footsteps echoed as I sprinted towards Mabel. I grabbed one of her dropped knives, its short blade giving me little distance. Her lips twitched with satisfaction at my predictability.
Gripping the knife until my knuckles turned white, I shifted into a fighting stance. She shook her head and lunged with elongated claws. Kat’s words about combat being a dance of blood and death played in my mind. The sparring sessions with her were exhausting, but nothing compared to the terror of a real fight.
Silver’s hatred for Mabel fueled me. Mabel aimed for my stomach, but I sidestepped, though not fast enough to avoid a scratch. Cold, tearing pain ripped through my arm where her nails had broken the skin.
I swung the knife recklessly, pushing the idea that I was an untrained fighter. Fear blossomed in my eyes, but I smothered it with feigned courage. Mabel danced backward, her eyes bright and eager. I saw her next move coming and didn’t avoid it. She had to touch me for my plan to work.
Her fist slammed into my stomach, knocking the breath from my lungs and sending me toppling. She straddled me, her nails digging into my shoulders. Her grin was that of a cat tired of playing with its prey.
Mabel’s magic wasn’t subtle. One moment I felt her nails tearing my flesh, and the next, bitter cold seeped into my bones. Every instinct screamed to fight, but I resisted, screaming within my own head. Instead of fighting the connection, I used my magic and pulled.
In my mind, I saw six shimmering lights. One flickered weakly, nearly extinguished. A seventh light was cold, dark, and desperate. I pulled from the five shimmering lights, trying to grasp their strength before Mabel devoured it. Ethan and Kieran were among them, but layers of agony smothered me.
“What are you doing?” she hissed, her voice strained. Her hazel eyes widened with panic. I shoved all the energy I gathered into her, giving it eagerly instead of resisting. My fingers twitched as warmth flooded my skin like a cup of hot chocolate fighting the cold.
Gripping the knife’s hilt, I managed a warped grin. “I’m distracting you.” I plunged the blade under her ribcage. At the same moment, Kieran’s blood-coated muzzle snapped down on her neck.
For a split second, time froze. True surprise blossomed on her face, her eyes wide with the realization of her own death. Then time sped up. Kieran tore her from me, flinging her against the wall with a sickening thud. The splash of crimson, her glossy auburn hair, and her blank eyes seared into my memory.
Kieran’s bloody muzzle broke my endless stare at Mabel’s corpse, her lifeless eyes locked onto my face.
‘Sweetheart, pay attention.’ Kieran’s rough, hoarse voice steadied my nerves. His concern for me kept his mind from succumbing to the rage urging him to destroy until nothing was left.
‘We don’t know how many are in Maverick’s inner circle. There’s no telling how many wolves are going to come out.’
‘We need a plan.’ I cleared my throat, relieved that my voice didn’t break, though it was still tinged with disbelief.
‘We already have one.’ Ethan’s voice was soft yet determined. ‘It’s you, doll. You can feed from them and strengthen yourself. Focus on Maverick, and we’ll handle the rest.’
Kieran shifted into his human form, pulling Mabel’s body to the thick, steel door. He pressed her bloody hand against a flat sensor. A near-silent click followed by the whir of gears turning confirmed our entry.
The interior was predictably luxurious, designed for rich cowards who loved to watch others fight and die. Leather couches, Persian rugs, mahogany coffee tables, and a bar area filled the room. What made it unique were the numerous television screens capturing footage of the fight in town.
I took a few tentative steps forward, stopped by Ethan’s low growl. From my position ten feet away, the room seemed empty. Then, a flash of silver eyes turned everything into chaos. Adrenaline sped up my perception, not slowing it.
A silver wolf leaped over my head, its claws just two feet above me. I turned, my magic lashing out with desperate ferocity, sinking into Maverick’s wolf-another cold, dead flame. I was distracted and had no time to react when a gunshot rang out, echoing off the walls and tearing through my eardrums. The sound was foreign in a world of claws and teeth.
The shot came from the bunker. Maverick’s inner circle flitted through my mind. He fell to the ground, yanked backward by an invisible tether. Eyes of blue and silver met mine, radiating hostility and infuriating confidence.
Something dark flashed behind my shoulder, falling in a mess of fading fur and pale skin. Dark glee filled Maverick’s eyes, making my heated blood run cold.
‘Focus.’ Ethan’s voice warned me not to turn around, not to break my concentration on the silver wolf in front of me.
I heard his snaps and snarls as he charged into the bunker, followed by three more gunshots. Ethan’s voice echoed after each one, reminding me of the stakes.
“Shift,” I snarled, my ears popping from the pressure as I pulled with my magic. Where Mabel’s magic was harsh and cold, mine held the heat and radiance of a soul.
As I fed from Maverick’s soul, revulsion and horror filled me. It was utter darkness, a gaping pit that hungered endlessly. Even if he had beaten us and claimed me, it would never have been enough.
“Shift,” I repeated, giving another harsh tug that made his hackles rise. Silver fur retreated, revealing Maverick Billford sprawled on the cement floor.
Seeing him, usually adorned in designer suits, sprawled in the dirt was jarring. If this had been the first time I saw Maverick, I wouldn’t have looked twice. He was cold and empty inside, chasing the light others exuded.
“She’s never lost, you know.” His voice was strained, emotionless even facing the inevitable. The physical pain in his words reminded me he was just a werewolf like the rest of us.
The indifference in his eyes threatened to send me into a bloodthirsty rage, but I suppressed it. He didn’t glance at Mabel or feign grief at her death. Even as I crouched down, wrapping my hand around the hilt of one of her blades, he was free from human emotions. “Neither have I.”
I hovered over him, my hands steady as the silver coating on the blade glittered. My heartbeat roared in my ears as his cold steel eyes met mine.
“Sooner or later, everyone loses.”
Ending the life of someone who caused so much horror should have been cathartic, a grand finale with the stars trickling down as death claimed another soul. But there was no physical change as Maverick Billford left this world. His stubborn fury refused to fade, even in death. Men like him never submit.
What I did feel were the shackles falling from thousands of wolves’ wrists, clattering against the blood-soaked earth as Maverick’s iron grip was finally removed. I had no time to process the change. Any joy was smothered by panic. An echo of searing pain rushed through me, hard enough to make my teeth snap together. It throbbed and burned just below my left collarbone, mirroring the gunshot wound in Kieran’s chest.