Unable to move, she peered up at the moon’s blue glow. The rain washed away the tears from her cheeks. She didn’t care if one of Jerrick’s men came by at that very moment to finish her off. All she could think about was how she hadn’t seen this coming. How could she let it happen?
Guilt slammed into her. Filip’s injury had been bad, but he had said himself he would be fine. She’d thought he was getting better. She had just seen him!
And Mila had been taking care of him. She knew how to treat any wound. She was the best.
But then Astrid remembered the grave look on Mila’s face when she had first entered their tent. She must have known something was off from the start. And Filip sending her out on those missions… Had he known his time alive was short? Had he known he wasn’t going to survive past tonight?
Her body trembled. Why didn’t you tell me?
But she knew her brother. He wouldn’t have wanted her to know how serious the situation was and risk keeping her from Erec and the Blue Moon. He was always protecting her. Always.
She should have seen it; she should have known. Astrid cursed herself for being so stupid.
Maybe I didn’t want to see it…
Lightning flashed again, charging the air with electricity. Thunder boomed.
Something snapped inside her. The sadness that had whipped through her so fast and so sudden became a tornado of pure, untamable fury as powerful as the storm raging around her.
Wiping away her damp cheeks with a swipe of her hand, she pushed herself off the tree. Her wolf rose up, wanting more blood to be spilled. Wanting revenge. The need was so great, her body shook from the force of it.
No longer feeling the pain in her leg or shredded right arm, she clasped her spear with both hands and scanned the war scene before her.
It was time for her to find Jerrick.
She was going to make him pay.
…
Back in his human form, Erec withdrew his sword from the man’s chest he’d been sparring with and tried to make sense of the odd sensation stretching across the pack bond. He couldn’t describe it as anything other than death—the cold, dark touch of death.
Filip. He didn’t know how he knew, but he did. And as he glanced at the many confused and distressed faces of the other west-side pack warriors, he was certain they had sensed it, too. They had lost their alpha.
They were a pack without a leader.
Erec’s next thought was Astrid. He needed to find her. With one last glance at the man bleeding to death by his feet, he trudged forward, searching the crowd for her red hair. He felt her first—her hot-blooded rage—before spotting her across the camp.
Her sweater had been torn at the elbow and blood flowed from the jagged lacerations down her arm. His chest squeezed with worry, but she seemed oblivious to any pain. Her anger was driving her forward. Even limping, there was a fierce determination in her step.
When lightning struck again and the forest lit up, he realized who it was she had set her sights on.
Jerrick. And Boden. The two massive men were locked in a heated battle, the old warrior’s two axes clashing with Jerrick’s broadsword. From the maniacal laughter tumbling from Jerrick’s lips and Boden’s more sluggish blocks, Boden was losing the fight.
Erec’s stomach knotted with terror. Astrid had no idea what she was getting herself into.
He was off and running with his next breath, but the route to her was blocked by the swarm of battle. He was too far away. Pushing through the throng, he was careful to sidestep any swinging blows and keep away any encroaching enemies. Images of Jerrick snapping Mikel’s neck as if it were a mere twig flooded his mind. He knew the extent of Jerrick’s madness, his strength, his brutality; he’d seen it for himself. Right before his eyes. There was no way Astrid would be able to take him out on her own. He would kill her without even flinching.
“Come on, old man!” Jerrick mocked, his voice as loud and booming as the thunder. “I asked for Boden the Warrior. And who did I get?” His laughter rumbled, the same callous and terrifying sound from Erec’s memory. “Is this some kind of joke? There is no warrior here!”
Exhaustion weighed on Boden’s brow, and his breathing was labored. He blocked another of Jerrick’s blows, but when Jerrick put all his weight forward, pushing the sword’s blade dangerously close to Boden’s face, the old alpha’s arms shook as he struggled.
Jerrick grinned.
Erec ducked as someone chucked a dagger his way. When its owner rushed at him, he swiped out his legs and sliced his throat as he fell.
Breathing hard, he looked up again, searching for Astrid. His temples pounded. He had to get to her before—
The sight of her spear soaring through the air made his heart skip a beat. Its trajectory was on target to hit Jerrick square in between the shoulder blades, but in one swift motion, he jerked his sword upward, disarming Boden of his axes, and spun just in time for her weapon to miss. It landed in the mud feet away.
She froze.
“Astrid, no!” Boden yelled, his eyes wide with horror.
Slowly and as gracefully as a feline, Jerrick turned. When his gaze rested on her, his eyes blazed with a deadly mixture of amusement and irritation. Then, he whirled around and kicked Boden in the gut hard enough to send him spiraling backward. He crashed into the charred remains of a firepit, groaning.
“Father!” Astrid charged toward the murderous alpha, and for a moment, Erec stopped breathing. As Jerrick’s blade cut through the air, she crouched low, sliding across the mud and slush, before popping up on the other side of him with her father behind her back and her spear back in her hand again. Before Jerrick could even register what had happened, she whacked him hard on the side of the face with the blunt end of the staff. Blood spouted from the new gash across his cheek.
He stepped back, stunned, and touched a finger to the wound. When he saw the blood, his delight quickly transformed into utter disgust.
“Bitch!” Jerrick spat, lifting his broadsword high. He closed the distance between them in two giant steps. Astrid shifted back closer to her father and held out her spear to block the coming hit.
Come on! Come on! Almost there! Erec continued to shove and fight his way through the mayhem. He was close now. Only feet away.
As the sword came down on her, Erec leaped forward, pinning himself between his new family and his blood father. His blade crossed with Jerrick’s, stopping it mid-blow.
Surprise flashed across the alpha’s face again but only briefly. “Step aside, son,” he growled out through a clenched jaw. His black eyes glowed eerily iridescent in the night’s blue light. “I don’t want to have to kill you.”
Erec winced at the word “son,” hating the way it sounded coming from the monster’s lips. Not only that, but Astrid had heard it as well. He could feel her confusion fluttering across the bond between them.
Now she knew what he was—the son to a killer. A madman.
He’d been hoping to keep that part of him a secret for a long time. He didn’t want anyone knowing the truth about the blood running through his veins. Especially her. Who knew what she would think of him now. A mate related to the murderous alpha, the man responsible for the death of her brother? How could she ever see him as anything else? How could she love him?
This must have been Jerrick’s plan all along. He knew what he had said; he’d chosen his words with a purpose. He wanted to rile Erec up. He wanted to cause doubt between him and the pack he was fighting to protect. He wanted him to lose his composure.
A whirlwind of anger and hatred for the man rolled inside him and his inner wolf snarled viciously, wanting out, but Erec wasn’t going to give Jerrick that satisfaction. If he was going to beat this lunatic, it had to be at his own game. Like with the surprise attack, he had to use his tricks against him.
He didn’t know much about this man, but what he did know for sure was that Jerrick didn’t like being challenged. Why else would he want to take down all other alphas? He’d struck
Eva when she went against his word. He’d abandoned his own son when he was defiant.
Jerrick wanted to eliminate any possible interference first, get rid of anyone or anything standing in his way. So what did that mean? Erec was going to have to do just that—become the threat.
Using all his strength, he shoved against his and Jerrick’s intersected swords, forcing him to step back. He did it again, even harder, pushing him back a few more feet.
Jerrick’s gaze narrowed on him and a growl rumbled from his throat. “You’re playing with fire, Erec,” he warned. “Step aside. This isn’t your fight.”
“It became my fight the moment you killed Mikel. And threatened the west-side pack.” He swung his sword, and this time, when Jerrick blocked, disbelief ran across the alpha’s expression.
The sound of metal striking metal reverberated against his eardrums. Every time Erec whirled the blade, Jerrick met his jab. And with each strike, his confusion became more evident, as if he had been expecting Erec to withdraw or admit a joke, but neither came.
The sharp edge of Jerrick’s weapon caught Erec’s knuckles, slicing deep—a warning for him to stop—and although the pain of it was quick and momentarily stunning, he wouldn’t let it slow him down.
Why was Jerrick giving him so many chances to back down from the fight? Especially when he’d been ruthless in killing and hurting so many others? Why? It didn’t make sense.
Their swords clashed again.
“You’re stronger than I thought,” Jerrick said, a slippery smile capturing his thin lips. “You survived all these years on your own. You escaped the cage. And you can fight. I’m impressed.”
Blood ran down Erec’s hand, making his palm slippery and his grip on the sword looser. He kept the pain of the wound off his face and stabbed at him again.
Jerrick dodged with ease. “Everything I did for you was to make you strong. Resilient. Like me,” he said, and Erec got the answer he’d been waiting for. He still wanted his son to rule by his side. Maybe even take over his legacy when he was gone, so that all his victories could be kept in his bloodline.
No way.
Jerrick twisted the sword as if it weighed nothing. “You must know that if this continues, it can only end one way.”
“Yes,” he growled, “with you dead.”
Jerrick laughed hard, throwing his head back—that terrible, nerve-grating laugh Erec hated. Then, he stopped abruptly, and something primal sparked in his eyes. His voice dropped dangerously low. “We’ll see.”
The moment those words left his mouth, he leaped at Erec, his swipes unpredictable and incredibly fast. No more warnings. Jerrick was out for blood now.
With every block, Erec’s bones rattled underneath his skin. It took everything he had to keep the blade from meeting its targets—his shoulder, neck, hip.
Swerving to escape another of Jerrick’s stabs, he was too slow and the cool metal pierced him between the ribs. He stumbled, agony propelling through him. But as he tried to regain his composure, a punch connected with his jaw. His vision blurred, and the coppery taste of blood flooded his mouth.
Jerrick’s laughter exploded against his eardrums. It blared over all other sounds, even the crescendo of thunder and rain.
As Erec struggled to stand upright again and lift his sword, a whoosh of air blew past his ear. Jerrick’s resounding chortles stopped aburptly, and when he looked up, he saw the spear jutting out of the alpha’s chest, just shy of his heart. He staggered, dropping his sword, his eyes wide with horror.
Someone seized Erec’s arm, and he turned to see Astrid standing there, her cheeks flushed from fear. One of her father’s axes was in her hand now. “He’s too quick!” she gasped, trying to pull Erec back. “I missed!”
Jerrick roared with fury. He tried to yank the spear out of his flesh, but the tip was embedded too deep. Instead, he tore at his clothes, ripping them off just as black fur sprouted out of every pore. Bones cracked and muscles bunched and reformed. His face lengthened into a snout and a pair of massive jaws. He lurched forward on all four legs, and the spear’s staff snapped in two, sending wood flying. With its ears pinned back, it snarled, revealing rows of sharp yellow fangs.
Jerrick the man was no more. They were staring into the menacing onyx eyes of a savage two-hundred-pound beast.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Erec jumped in front of Astrid, clutching his sword in one hand and his wounded side with the other. His heart pounded. “Go, Astrid! Run!”
“I’m not leaving you,” she yelled, pushing past to stand by his side.
The black wolf growled viciously. Then pounced.
Erec shoved Astrid hard out of the way as the beast’s claws dug into his chest, knocking him onto the ground. His own animal climbed to the surface, but when the black wolf’s jaws entrenched into his shoulder, the immense pain made him blind to anything else. He kicked out, nailing its soft underbelly, but it did nothing to make him let go.
Movement flashed at the corner of his eye, and the wolf released him and was rearing back. That’s when Erec saw the axe impaled in the animal’s hind leg and Astrid standing there, breathing hard. It whipped its huge head her way, sharp teeth flashing, and snarled.
Erec glanced up to see his sword had landed inches out of reach. He stretched and grabbed for it, but his fingers only brushed the handle. His stomach dropped.
Jerrick inched closer at Astrid, who was frantically glancing around for another weapon to grab. There were none.
Bracing himself on one elbow, Erec heaved himself closer to the sword, ignoring the immense pain raking through his body. The second his fingers wrapped around the hilt, the wolf spun around again. He plunged the sword upward, impaling its skull through the jaw.
For a long moment, the animal didn’t move. Only its nostrils flared as one last steamy breath leaked from its nose. Then, its massive body shuddered once more before collapsing on top of Erec, dead.
When Jerrick shifted back into his human form, Erec pushed the lifeless weight off him and climbed to his feet. As he rose, his muscles clenched painfully and his wounds stung, but the rain was a refreshing beat against his aching body.
He suddenly realized that there was an odd silence gripping the night, and when his gaze swept over the campsite, he saw that everyone—both the pack’s warriors and Jerrick’s men—had stopped fighting and were now watching him intently. Henrick, Dana, Astrid, even Boden. Every eye, human and wolf, was locked on him.
Something zinged through his veins, a growing, pulsing power unlike anything he’d ever felt before. As it rushed throughout his body, the pains and aches disappeared and he was stronger. Unstoppable.
Then, a flood of emotions crashed against his aura—pain, relief, absolute joy, pride. He felt them all. But instead of being overwhelmed, his heartbeat slowed, and a calm washed over him, and he knew right then what was happening.
He was an alpha.
Erec glanced down at his hands and saw the golden glow hovering around his skin, the same thing he’d seen around Filip before.
Him? An alpha?
But he couldn’t be. Not him. He wasn’t—
“One day you’ll be able to see the greatness that I see in you.” Mikel’s rich voice echoed from the recesses of Erec’s memory.
He couldn’t do this. He wasn’t like Boden, a warrior through and through. Or a natural-born leader like Filip.
He was…just him.
A light pressure touched his back, and he glanced over to see Astrid at his side. Seeing her there, alive, knowing she was indeed the other half of his soul, made a smile lift his lips. The warmth of her love encased him through their newly strengthened bond, bringing with it a new sense of confidence.
She didn’t care who his real father had been. It didn’t matter to her. After years of being on his own, he never imagined finding someone to accept and love him unconditionally. He had accepted himself as a rogue, even when her father had wanted to cast him out.
Maybe b
eing alpha wasn’t an absurd idea. Mikel had been right about everything else. He could be right about this, too. And Filip had thought him capable of leading. He had believed in him as well.
Maybe this was meant to be.
He could do this.
Staring out at the many trusting and hopeful faces of the west-side pack, the men and women he had befriended over the last few weeks and fought alongside, any lingering uncertainty within him washed away. They had accepted him. Completely. They trusted him. He should believe in himself, too.
He could do this.
Now, with Astrid at his side and the twenty-fifth Blue Moon behind them, there were so many things ahead of him. And he couldn’t wait to experience them all.
As he dipped his head to kiss her, she met him most of the way, crushing her mouth against his for a kiss so heart-stopping, it confirmed that his days alone were over.
With an entirely new assurance in himself and the future, Erec tilted his head back and let out a resounding howl. Beside him, Astrid did the same, her higher pitch mingling with his deeper tones in harmony before rising up to the moon and filling the night with its beautiful song.
As more and more howls from the others in the campsite joined the symphony, Erec’s chest swelled with admiration and pride. He was finally part of a family. A pack.
He was home.
Epilogue
Astrid leaped over a rotting stump and sprinted along the riverbank, loving the warm breeze combing through her fur and the feel of the smooth stones under her paws. A chorus of noisy crickets filled the forest, and newly bloomed flowers fragranced the air in sweet perfumes.
Nights like this were her favorite—warm, peaceful, and full of promise. Now that it was mid-spring and the colder months were behind them, life had returned to the woods and lush greens replaced the once stark whiteness. It was hard to believe she had come so close to never seeing another warm season again or experiencing the blissful freedom of shifting and running as a wolf, unbound by the moon.
Usually, she tried very hard to forget the night of her twenty-fifth Blue Moon, of her last moments before death, and of the gruesome battle with Jerrick’s pack that followed, but recently, especially on nights like tonight, she couldn’t help her thoughts from wandering back.
The Curse (Shifter Origins) Page 25