by G. Bailey
Real. Raw. Heartbreaking. I grab a tree as I come to a pause. Near the path is Tualla with her swords stuck into her stomach. An arrow in her leg. Her blood pours from the wounds, and I flinch as another arrow cuts into her leg from somewhere up high.
It’s a trap.
Think, Mai. Think.
A really bad idea comes to me, and I slide my dagger back in before calling for my power. I step out from behind the tree, looking for Adira. Only she would use Tualla as a trap. I spot her in a white ash tree above me just before she shoots an arrow at me. I throw a sphere of shifter energy at the arrow, burning it into nothing, and the sphere goes past, slamming into Adira. She screams as she is thrown from the branch, and I don’t pause, running to Tualla.
Her eyes stare up at me as I lean over her, and she shakes her head. “G-go. It’s a tr-rap.”
“I know,” I tell her, pushing on the wound around the sword. “Don’t worry.”
Tualla stares at me, and slowly her eyes turn light blue, glowing with a familiar magic.
I don’t see Tualla’s dagger in her hand, but I feel it as she slides it through my chest in one smooth fell. She was being controlled by Adira, seduced by that power of hers. It’s the same light blue I saw in the eyes of the Levi.
I gasp, falling backwards, the pain paralyzing all my thoughts as I gasp for air, tasting my blood in my mouth. I can’t breathe, I can’t think straight, but some clarity shocks me aware as I open my eyes to see Adira leaning over me, brushing a bit of my hair from my forehead.
“Didn’t see that coming, did you?” she says softly. “I knew you would run to save Tualla with that pure heart of yours. Pure but stupid. I also knew you’d use your powers to deflect an arrow. You’re too predictable, Mai.”
She strokes her hand across my chest, covering her hand in my blood. “Ragnar, as he was inside me last night, made me promise not to kill you today. I lied. Even when he is fucking me, he is thinking of you.”
Truth. I see it in her eyes, feel it in her voice. She isn’t lying to me.
“Wh—at?” I gasp, my heart shattering. Ragnar slept with her? How could he do that to me? To us?
She sighs. “But you’re going to die soon, and I will finally get all of them. Not just Ragnar. Though, he is amazing in bed, between me and you.”
“Fuck you,” I growl, crying out with every letter that leaves my mouth. The pain hurts so much, but it’s still nothing to the way my heart is hurting.
He is a liar.
“Shh,” she coos. “It will be over soon, Mai. You can be with your mama. Do you remember yet?”
“N—o,” I gasp.
She smiles. “I thought so. You’d have killed me before this, and it would have been your right, considering I killed your mama. To get to you, to give you to the angel king and save everyone in our pack. I didn’t agree with them, that they should protect you, and I wanted to give you to the angel king. I ran to her, and she hugged me, like I was a scared girl, offering to keep me safe. At that moment, I enchanted her and forced her to use the glowing sword to stab herself. I stayed with her as she died, like I am with you. You saw me do it and ran.”
The memories are like an echo as she talks, and I see it. Young Adira, glowing light blue, my mama’s sword going through her stomach, the shock in her eyes. Mama told me to stay in the attic, and I didn’t. Couldn’t. I ran into the forest, and Niall found me, hid me, before going back for mama after I begged him.
Adira killed my mama.
“Bitch!” I scream, a flash of green magic blasting off my body and slamming into her. She flies back through the air, slamming into a tree. Dark spots attack my vision, but I see her standing, blood pooling on her cheek, and she darkly smiles as she walks to me. She grabs a dagger from her thigh and cups my chin. Using all the strength I have, I look into her dead, unfeeling eyes. Pure evil, that’s all that lies within her heart. “I’m going to kill you. I will find a way.”
“You don’t deserve to be pretty in death,” she breathes as she places the tip of the dagger on my cheek, near my eye. A scream rattles from me as she cuts down my cheek to my chin and leans back, a cruel smile on her face as my hot blood mixes with my tears. “I will look after them, Mai. Have fun in hell, because we both know that is where you’re heading.”
Everything is too fuzzy and my body too weak to even move as she walks away, leaving me alone with Tualla.
Too injured to move, to save myself. I turn my head to the side, blood dropping from my cheek onto the dirt path as I meet Tualla’s eyes. She is so pale, her eyes fading of colour, and I feel helpless to save her. I reach my hand across the dirt, and she grabs it with her own hand, with what little strength she has left.
She looks away from me, up at the trees above us, like they are alive and can hear her breathless plea. “Take my life, but save hers. If there are any gods in this forest, any magic left in this world, take what is left of my life and save Mairin Fall, the goddess Persephone. I beg of you. She will save this world.”
But there are no gods left to hear her begging, her pleas. It’s all silent, empty as Tualla looks at me once more. She tried to save me. My enemy in the rite tried to save me in the end.
“We will d-die together,” I breathe out, the words barely understandable, but Tualla knows what I mean. I see it in her eyes, even when dark spots dance around and I don’t feel the pain wrecking my body anymore. I’ve gone past pain, and I know I don’t have long left in this world. I wish I could tell my alphas... I wish I could see them. Love them. Have a life with them. Not Ragnar, not after what he did with Adira.
I try not to think about it as a light humming fills my ears, and it reminds me of my mama’s singing on a hot summer night, lulling me to sleep, the birds in the forest outside tweeting along with her song.
I had a beautiful life for a time, and I want so much more of it. So much more, but instead, I only get darkness.
An endless, silent darkness.
“What are you thinking?” a male voice roars, the sound bouncing off the walls and echoing in my ears. The pain, the fear, the desperation are hard to miss as I open my eyes and watch in pure horror. Persephone, covered head to toe in the blood of hundreds of humans at her feet, stands still as Hades tries to reach her. Green shifter energy battles against the red darkness coming off Hades. They are fighting, their power mimicking each other, and yet I feel like Hades is holding back. He stands so still, his cloak blown down to reveal his midnight black hair and golden skin, sharp jawline and chin. He is handsome, as I would think the god of death would be, but it’s more than that. He reminds me of them, my alphas. I look at Persephone, and maybe I look like her too. She is wearing a green dress, silk wrapped tightly around her and tied at the waist with a silver belt. Her hair is tightly curled and held up in parts that are slowly coming loose with the power coursing through this room.
Red and green. Darkness and light.
“Please. Stop. You can come back from this, my dearest love.”
Persephone only stares and lifts her hand, a crown clutched tightly in her grasp. The crown is alive, glowing white and green, a crown made of silver and gold and metal I’ve never seen that looks alive. I can feel the crown, even just looking at it.
It’s the crown she wants me to find. The one I made a deal for, having no clue what power she was looking for through me. The obsessive look she gives the crown, like it’s her lover and soulmate instead of Hades, makes me shiver.
“I have been weak my entire life. Weaker than my mother...than you. I couldn’t save anyone from the war the other gods brought to us,” she breathes out. “When they attacked me, killing our unborn child, I could do nothing. I was not powerful enough, but this...this is power.”
“Persephone.” Hades’s voice makes my heart hurt. His pain is enough to make even a coldhearted monster feel something.
“NO!” she shouts at him, her power escalating into a dangerous wave as she lifts the crown and places it on her head. It fits perfectly, lik
e it was always meant to be hers. “I choose power, every single time, because loving you, god of death, brought me nothing but pain. Power will not.”
Green shifter energy destroys the room, and I cover my eyes, the light blinding, feeling the heat of the power flickering across my skin. A hand covers my hand, burning where it touches, and I gasp, lowering my arm to see Persephone floating in front of me.
“You will not die when you do not have my crown yet. Find it before I truly become angry.”
She shoves a hand into my chest, and I scream as pain like nothing I’ve ever felt seems to pull my soul from the very depths of hell.
I wake up with a gasp, a sharp, aching feeling in my chest, and everything is so dark, only scratches of light in front of me. My hand goes to where I was stabbed, only to find ripped leather and smooth skin.
The dream...it was real? Persephone saw me, saved me, threatened me for the crown. All this time, I’ve assumed Persephone was good and pure and wanted peace. But I don’t think any of that is true. I think I’ve made a big mistake trusting the goddess I’m bound to. I reach up, my fingers brushing against roots. It takes me a while to pull the roots apart, light beaming in, and I climb out of the thorn cocoon that was covering me. Next to the cocoon is Tualla’s body, a light covering of tiny yellow flowers all over her body from her neck down. The forest, or whatever rests in it, did this for her. I doubt Persephone would have saved me when I haven’t got her crown yet, and I think I would have known if she did. We are so close, and this magic scents so different, older, deeply woven into the world. Perhaps Tualla’s plea didn’t fall on deaf ears. Tears wet my eyes as I go to Tualla and lean down, softly closing her eyes.
“We endure the fall and rise in the ashes, my friend. Rest with the gods, Tualla Fall.”
My words feel empty of meaning as I rise, looking at the forest ahead. Gods know how many hours or even days I’ve been sleeping in that cocoon; my stomach rumbling suggests it’s been a while. I doubt Adira has found the middle of the forest and become alpha female yet. They would be down here, searching the forest for our bodies if she had done. No, there is still time. Through a wave of dizziness, I head to the stream and drink some water before finding a berry bush. From scent alone, I test the unusual berries until I find one that I know and trust not to be deadly. I eat a few handfuls of berries for much needed strength and drink some more water before heading off through the woods. I don’t find any sign of a path for a long time, and the forest is eerily silent as I walk for what seems like hours until my legs burn and tiredness threatens to force me to sleep for a while. I find a clearing and pause, shock making me still like frozen ice as Tualla stands before me.
Not Tualla exactly. She doesn’t scent like her, but she looks the same except for the eyes and the white dress she is now wearing. Her eyes are pale, lifeless, and her skin lacks any sort of glow. Tualla is dead, that much I’m sure, but somehow she is here. Gods’ magic.
“They gave me five minutes to speak with you,” she says, her voice like a whisper between worlds. It makes me shiver with how wrong it is to have her speaking to me and how it’s even possible.
“Who did?” I eventually ask, the words hard to speak.
“They, the Wolven gods, the ones who have watched over the seven for many, many years,” she breathes out. The Wolven gods, the ones my mama prayed to and believed were real? “They, of infinite power.”
I pale slightly, taking a step closer. “The Wolven gods are real? What is the seven? The seven children born connected to the gods?”
“The seven is...” She pauses like someone pulling a string on her is tugging. “That is not my place to tell you. I am here to give warning.”
I know better than to push on what the seven are. The Wolven gods don’t want me to know, but I will find out another way, another time. “What warning?”
“Ragnar Fall is not who he says he is,” she says. Everything in me is suspended, like a glass about to be dropped from a height. “He is a pretender, a king in disguise, and many pretend around you. You must trust little and few to win this game. He intends to destroy you and your pack. You will never wear the crown if he is at your side.”
Ragnar didn’t betray me…he isn’t Ragnar. How long has this been going on? How did I not see it? I think back to every moment with Ragnar, and I realise he has been strange since we got off the train.
“Where is my Ragnar then?” I demand.
“In the prisons...his mind slowly lost, but they say he still calls for you,” she replies. A sob escapes my lips, horror filling my chest. Ragnar is in that place, a place for monsters to feed on him. Erin...her father...what she said of that place hits me hard. I have to get him out as soon as possible, and I have to know who is pretending to be my Ragnar. How did I not see it?
“His name is Cenwyn, and he is the king of the angels,” Tualla states, telling me the name of my enemy I didn’t want to know or speak. He has been here the entire time, kissing me, giving me gifts. Sickness rises in my throat at the memories. Cenwyn? The male I met in Ravensword...he is the angel king, and he has been here the entire time. I can’t remember much of him yet. Those memories feel locked deeper than others, but I know enough.
Sickness now fills my throat as I look at Tualla. “Thank you for the warning. I will—”
“Do what must be done to save millions. To save this city as its alpha female and queen,” she firmly states. “I died for you, Mairin Fall, do not let me down. You are as strong as you make yourself.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you,” I admit.
She smiles, the first time I’ve really seen her smile. “But you will save them. The weak, the ones unable to fight, and the world will finally be able to breathe. Be brave and tell my family I love them.”
I barely get to promise her before she disappears in a burst of white light, leaving nothing where she once stood. I step further into the clearing when I hear grass crunch under the feet of something, and I pull out Morganis. Slowly a huge white wolf walks into a clearing, its fur the colour of snow, its eyes white and clear like diamonds. Strange markings cover the wolf, glowing silver and white, and snow is left in every place the wolf steps. I freeze, the power of this wolf flowing through to me as it walks and stops a breath away.
Then it rears its beautiful head back and howls.
I feel the howl in every inch of my body, like a wave, and I nearly cry out from the cold magic that washes over me, smoothing over my skin. I feel the cut of my cheek close and heal; I feel something drawing itself onto my forehead and down my chest and back.
Markings.
When I open my eyes, the wolf is looking right at me. It’s a god, bound to this forest, and he has chosen me. I see my reflection in his eyes. On my forehead, dead in the middle, is a crescent moon and black swirls drifting down around my eyebrows. The same markings peek out of the leather on my chest, and tears fall down my cheeks as I slowly bow my head. The wolf bows with me, both of us moving like mirrors for a small moment. I lift my head as he does, and before he walks away from me, I’m already making a plan on how to save my alphas, my city, my pack.
I’m their alpha female, their queen, and I won’t let them fall.
The castle is dead silent as I walk in, and within seconds, the red pools of blood surrounding the guards’ bodies at my feet tell me why. Escaping the forest was easier than I thought it would be; the stairs just appeared when I decided I wanted to leave. The courtyard was silent, too silent, but no one appeared as I tied up my horse. This is the plan, the one I need to stick to. Something is terribly wrong, and I can’t scent my alphas anywhere. My leather clothes are ripped and torn, sticky with my blood still, but I push the escaped strands of my hair from my eyes. I don’t need to check to see if the guards are alive as I walk down the corridors, following the trails of blood and bodies; it is clear.
The castle doesn’t make a sound, and I place my hand on the wall for a second, to breathe, to take strength from the castle even f
or a moment. The bodies and blood lead to the ballroom, where at least fifty bodies are in piles outside. They fought hard to protect the alphas and alpha heirs, but not hard enough. The ballroom doors are shut, marks on the floor showing me that the blood was spilled first before the doors were shut.
It’s a trap, because I scent my alphas in that room. Their blood is too strong to not scent, and it makes me panic. My heart feels stuck in my chest, unable to beat. If anything happens to them…I couldn’t live with it. Ragnar is already…it’s unthinkable.
Phim and Trey are in the room, too. I can scent their fear. I look at my shaking hands and turn them around. In my palm is the upside-down mountain mark for this pack, for what it stands for. The pack needs me to do this and succeed.
My hands stop shaking.
I keep my head high and pull the doors open, trying not to react to the scene in front of me as I walk through the blood. Valentine, Henderson and Silas are hung on glowing blue chains from the ceiling by their hands, their blood dripping with every second that passes, and they are unconscious. Dozens of deep cuts, scratches and marks cover their bare chests, and they are so pale. Their blood is like a pool underneath them.
It takes everything in me to look away, to not reveal the panic and dread and fear controlling me now. The males I love are tied to the ceiling like animals. Phim is chained with Trey in the room’s corner, awake, but she doesn’t say a word as her eyes meet mine.
I feel what she is saying, her eyes black and blue with bruises, her lip cut, and she is cradling her arm like it’s broken.
Run.
But I can’t. Not from this, from my pack.
On the throne that is not his, is Ragnar Fall...and he isn’t alone. Fox and his brothers stand on one side of the throne, and Erin is on the other.
They betrayed me. Us.
Ragnar, well, Cenwyn, starts to clap loudly as I walk further into the room and pause in the middle. I force myself not to look at my alphas, to try and save them just yet.