by Kayla Wolf
Lachlan was staring at him expectantly, and he switched gears. “They’re attacking tonight,” he said, jaw tight as he lengthened his stride. Lachlan’s breath hissed out between his teeth. “They’ll be here in an hour. They plan to get into the forest then attack us at home.”
”They won’t get that far.”
”We’ll wait for them in the tree line where the peninsula joins the mainland,” Harvey suggested as they half-walked, half-ran towards Bryce’s cottage, where they’d agreed to meet up. Lachlan had his phone out, already calling the others, alerting them to what was happening. Harvey’s heart was pounding. It had been a long time since he’d readied himself for a fight. It was awful, but at the same time, there was something familiar about it. He’d done this a lot in his youth. He was good at this. Fighting was something he understood. Fighting was something he could lose himself in, at least for a while. And any distraction from the pain in his chest was welcome at this point.
It wasn’t long before the seven of them were gathered, ready for the fight. The humans on the peninsula had been evacuated, which was reassuring. Harvey knew without saying it out loud that they all understood that it was possible they wouldn’t succeed at turning back this attack. A hundred wolves was a frighteningly huge force, even though they had warning that they were coming. At least if they fell in battle, they knew that their families were safe on the mainland. But Harvey wasn’t going to let that happen, he thought, looking around at the proud, brave faces of his friends. He knew, now, what it was to have a soulmate. If it killed him, he was going to protect his friends. He was going to make sure that they made it home to their families and to their mates, even if it killed him.
Because in the end, what did he have to live for?
But he kept those dark thoughts to himself for now. That wasn’t the kind of energy you went into a fight with. They all readied themselves, then took a couple of cars and set off toward the top of the peninsula. Part of Harvey wanted to fly—he was impatient to get into his true form again, to start readying himself for the fight. But it was good to be able to talk to each other as they drove up, revisiting strategies, reminding themselves of how wolves fought.
”That mind-sharing thing’s a killer,” Harvey said, looking around at his friends. “Remember that if one wolf can see you, they all can. Don’t let them get behind you.” Wolves had the ability to share each other’s thoughts in battle and even to look through each other’s eyes. It made them a frightening enemy—they were incredibly good at working together, at fighting like one mind with several bodies. The prospect of a hundred of them, all sharing the same perspective … it was frightening.
But what the seven of them lacked in mind-sharing abilities, they made up for in closeness. They’d known each other for decades—they could do this. He had absolute faith in the dragons around him, in their strength, their courage. He trusted them the way he trusted himself. More, even.
It wasn’t long before they’d reached the top of the peninsula, and they pulled their cars off the road and walked the rest of the way, not wanting the wolves to get any sign that they knew they were coming. It was getting late now, and the road along the coast was deserted but for the occasional set of headlights. They’d looked at a map, decided on the best place to meet the wolves. It wouldn’t work to fight them on the mainland—there was too much of a risk of being seen by a passing human, photographed with a cell phone. So they set their battle line on the peninsula, a few hundred feet from the point where it joined the mainland, across the road that led down the strip of land to the settlement at its tip. Here, it was dark, and they were unlikely to be disturbed by any curious humans. And the land was narrow enough that they could stop any wolves from slipping past them.
Now, all that remained was to wait. They’d spread themselves through the trees, agreeing to stay in human form for as long as possible. Wolves had very good senses of smell, especially in their wolf forms—they’d smell a dragon a hundred miles away. Staying human-shaped might buy them a little time. Besides, it was much easier to hide in the trees this way. Harvey kept his eyes trained on the road, waiting. Watching. Ready for battle.
Ready for death, if it came to that.
It must have been half an hour later when he stirred suddenly, the hairs on the back of his arms going up. It was as though he’d sensed the wolves before he’d seen them, his dragon stirring in his chest as their ancient enemy neared. He glanced around, searching for his friends. Sure enough, they were ready, their eyes fixed on the road.
And that was when the wolf pack appeared.
Lori had been telling the truth, he realized with a shock, even as his body went into autopilot. There were more wolves here than he’d ever seen before—dozens and dozens of them, moving together, their great heads low and their silver eyes gleaming. Much, much bigger than wild wolves, wolf shifters—not bigger than a dragon, of course, but they had the strength in numbers that they lacked in size. They were moving together, almost in perfect unison, and he couldn’t help but shudder. This was going to be a hell of a fight.
It was James who struck first. He’d always been the fastest of them—there was a sudden rustling, and the wolves barely had time to react before he was upon them, twenty feet of lethal scales and claws. The wolves scattered around the enormous dragon, but not before he’d struck the first blow. The scent of the blood hit Harvey, and he couldn’t have fought the magic that rose up in him if he’d tried. His body shifted, warped, changing with lightning speed. He felt hard dark blue scales spreading across his body even as it grew, his spine extending as his tail formed, great wings bursting out of his shoulders. It was a strange feeling but a welcome one—like taking off an uncomfortable piece of clothing at the end of the long day. Finally, he was himself again.
And it was time to protect his home from an enemy that wanted to steal it.
He hurled himself into the fray, roaring as he lashed out with his talons. There were two wolves on James’s back, trying to bring the dragon down to the ground so their fellows could swarm him, but they hadn’t reckoned on Harvey’s interference. He sent the wolves flying with a lash of his talon, spinning to deliver a punishing bite to another wolf for good measure. They were panicking, he could tell. They hadn’t expected to be met with such purpose, such ferocity. His friends were pouring out of the trees now, joining the fray, all seven of them in their true forms now. He scanned the wolves, trying to get a sense of their morale. Would they break in the face of such opposition?
An unearthly howl went up, high and haunting, piercing through the sounds of battle like a blade. He followed it to its source—saw a huge, gray wolf, bigger than the others, its silver eyes gleaming as it bayed at the moon. From the body language of the others—the way they turned, the way they seemed to instinctively lower themselves—he could tell that this was the Alpha. And with that cry, the wolves surged forward, full of fresh confidence. Fresh determination to wage this war, and to win. But Harvey wasn’t going to let that happen.
As his talons tore into wolf after wolf, he found—to his dismay—that he was thinking about Lori. He remembered what she’d told him about her wolf form, about not being able to shift. Had it been the truth? It would be reassuring to know that she couldn’t be here, that none of these wolves that were falling under his talons could possibly be her. If there was a chance that she was here, he knew he couldn’t do any damage to the foe. He pushed her far from his mind, losing himself to the adrenalin of the battle. They were doing okay. Seven dragons was a formidable fighting force—he glanced back at his friends, fiercely proud of them, knowing as he looked that each one of them was fighting to protect the home they’d built.
But there were just so many wolves. Time after time, he blocked attacks, intercepted wolves that were leaping at his friends. Lachlan and James both had children, he thought wildly as he took blow after blow that had been intended for the other two. Better for him to take the wound, take the risk, accumulate injuries instead of hi
s friends. He could take it. He had so many scars already. What was it to have a few more? Besides, the pain kept him focused. Kept him sharp. Kept a kind of clarity in him, even as the blood loss began to make him dizzy. The wolves just kept coming … it felt like he was throwing wolf after wolf aside, hurling their limp bodies out of the way to make room for a fresh wave of wolves.
But they were winning. He sensed that, deep down. The wolves were warier, now, circling at a greater distance, trying to preserve their numbers now that so many injuries had taken out the bulk of their forces. He was aware of wounded wolves limping away, of other wolves moving in to assist their bleeding packmates out of the fray. Let them go, he thought dizzily. Let them carry their scars to all the corners of the world and tell everyone they met what happened if they tried to interfere with his home. He roared his fury, shocked by how weak his voice sounded. There was blood running down his forelegs, dripping from his wingtips—he realized with a shock that his wing sails were torn and punctured. He’d been using them to shield his friends. Had they really been so badly damaged already?
The Alpha was in front of him. He’d been keeping an eye on the great gray wolf, watching it marshal its forces, organize and guide each attack. But now, with only a few dozen wolves left, it had clearly decided to enter the fray itself. The wolf lunged at him suddenly, its great jaws snapping—and he hurled himself straight at it, not even trying to dodge. They crashed into each other, and he felt his body give way, his talons scraping at the dirt as the great wolf’s bulk bore him down. Taking the opportunity, a handful of wolves circled around to his sides, biting and tearing at his unprotected flanks as he grappled with the Alpha. Heedless of the injuries, he opened his jaws wide and tore a deep wound in the Alpha’s shoulder. The wolf roared in pain. As the Alpha’s blood poured down the wolf’s flank, he felt a shockwave ripple out, the whole pack reacting to their leader’s wound.
But something was wrong. He was trying to struggle upright as the wolf in front of him collapsed—but his legs weren’t obeying his instructions. The adrenalin that had been holding back the darkness around his vision was beginning to give out. He sagged, slumped to the ground beside the fallen Alpha, his wings covering the deep wounds on his sides as he struggled to stay conscious. The last thing he saw before the darkness claimed him were his friends, gathering around him. He counted them with his last scraps of energy. They were all there. Injured, but alive.
He’d done it, he thought as he sank into the darkness. He’d saved them.
His own life was a small price to pay.
Chapter 13 - Lori
There was a basement in the farmhouse. She’d only been down there a few times. It was where they kept things they didn’t use very often. Seasonal things, winter clothing, old appliances that were broken but might be repaired one of these days. So when her father led her to the stairs that led to the basement, she hesitated a little. He turned to her, his eyes as cold as they had been when he’d confronted her outside the barn.
”Don’t make me get the silver,” he said. The way he was looking at her … it was remarkable, how cold he looked. Like she was a stranger and not his flesh and blood. Not the young woman he’d spent his whole life trying to mold into an obedient slave. He was looking at her like she was someone he barely even knew. She supposed, in a way, that she was. What interest had her father ever taken in her, in what she wanted, in what she thought and hoped and believed? She may as well have been a stranger.
“Traitor,” was all he’d said when he’d come to her outside of the barn. It was pretty clear that he’d heard the whole conversation, or close enough—there was fury twisting his face as he reached out, took her phone from her, clenching his fist hard enough to crush the device completely. There’d be no saving it, she realized dully. Had Harvey been about to answer what she’d said to him? It didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered. She’d gotten the word to him. The dragons would know that the attack was coming, would be ready to fight.
It wasn’t much, this thing she’d done for him. But it was all she could do.
Her father had taken her by the wrist the way he used to do when she was young and dragged her towards the farmhouse. There was no need—she’d have gone willingly. She knew there was no chance of escape, no hope of outrunning her father. And where would she go, anyway? She couldn’t shift, couldn’t use her wolf shape to run. And it wasn’t as though she could go to the peninsula, fight on the side of the dragons. Would they even let her? She had no idea how to fight, not in this form.
Now, she walked down the staircase into the gloomy depths of the basement. Her little siblings hated it down here. Jack claimed there were ghosts, Kara just resented the cobwebs and damp of the place, and Bella was so fiercely afraid of the dark that even opening the door was enough to send her running. She felt a twist of grief at the thought of her siblings. Where were they? Were they safe, wherever they were? Did they know that a battle was about to take place—a battle that might just claim the lives of their loved ones? Would Lori be expected to explain death to a group of somber-faced children?
Probably not, she thought with a twinge of real fear. She wasn’t going to be a part of her siblings’ lives any longer, she suspected. What would her parents tell the little ones about what happened to her?
”You’ll stay here until we decide what to do with you,” her father told her now. She was standing in the middle of the basement, the only light in the room spilling through from the kitchen at the top of the stairs. “You’ll be cast out from the pack, of course. That’s if Juliana’s feeling merciful.”
”Who will you get to do your babysitting then?” she asked, shocked at her own daring. Her father was, too. He stared at her for a long moment—then she recoiled in shock as he raised his hand and struck her hard across the face. She lifted a hand to her cheek, shocked more by the fact that he’d hit her than by the pain of the blow. Neither of her parents had ever raised their hands to her before. They’d been abusive in other ways, of course—withholding affection, controlling where she went and what she did … but they’d never struck her.
To her surprise, it only made her feel stronger about what she’d done. More convinced that it was the right thing. Her father had shown his true colors now. She had no love left for her family, no loyalty to these people who had claimed to be her parents for her whole life … only contempt. He could see it on her face, too. He recoiled from her, a look of disgust on his face.
”You’ve changed,” he spat, his face twisted with scorn. “Those dragons have poisoned you to be against us.”
”No, Dad. You did a pretty good job of poisoning me yourself. It just took me this long to wake up to it.”
”How dare you.” His eyes blazed with anger. She wondered idly if he was going to strike her again. She almost wanted him to. It had filled her with such calm, such peace. “We gave you life. We gave you everything. We took you back in—”
”You took me in because you wanted a willing servant. A robot,” she snarled. “Someone who’d do what she was told and never complain. That’s not love. That’s enslavement.”
”We’ll talk about this later,” he said through gritted teeth. “In case you haven’t heard, your pack is going out to fight for your ancestral home—”
”It’s not our ancestral home, though, is it? You lied to me. Lied to all of us. I talked to the dragons about it. They told me what happened. That they wanted to settle down, to give up on the life of crime they’d been trapped in for so long—yeah, they mentioned that. I didn’t know our honorable ancestors were a pack of drug dealers,” she snarled, enjoying the look of horror on her father’s face. “But the pack was too greedy to do that, weren’t they? So they betrayed the dragons. Attacked them in the dead of night, killed a bunch of them. But they lost the fight. They lost then, and they’ll lose now.”
”Shut your insolent mouth,” her father hissed, his face bright red. “You’re no daughter of mine.”
”And you’re no father
,” she spat. He stormed up the stairs and slammed the door shut hard behind him, leaving her standing alone in the pitch darkness, breathing hard and feeling more elated than she ever had. She’d never spoken like that to her father, never even dreamed she had it in her. It felt … good. It felt like something she should have done a long time ago.
Lori took a careful seat on the ground, squinting around in the hopes that her eyes would adjust to the gloom, but there was so little light down here that she suspected it would be a long time before she could see anything. She focused on her other senses instead, closing her eyes and listening to what was going on upstairs. She could hear engines rumbling, tires on the gravel, car after car taking off, loaded with wolves who were ready for a fight. She cast her mind out, imagining Harvey and his friends getting ready. At least she knew that they were warned. They’d have a fighting chance against the pack.
It was strange. She’d never felt more lost than this … as good as exiled from her pack, with nowhere to go, no home to call her own. She had no idea what her life was going to end up like—where she was going to go, what she was going to do, who was going to take her in. But at the same time, she’d never felt so at peace. For the first time in her life, she realized as the cars rolled away one by one, she was at peace with herself. She was happy inside her own skin, proud of what she’d done today, of the steps she’d taken to make the world better. She’d stood up to her father. She’d warned Harvey of what was happening. She was proud of herself.
And as that realization struck her, she felt as though something had unlocked deep down in her chest. Her skin began to tingle. It was a little like static electricity but much more pleasurable. It was a familiar feeling. A feeling that belonged to her childhood more than it belonged to her current self … a feeling she’d first felt at age thirteen, under the glow of the full moon, her mother at her side as the magic that was her birthright finally began to take hold of her …