Page 65 of Before We Burn

I can’t focus on Nadiya’s words. There’s something specific I searched for, a mission I was sent on. One I try my hardest not to think about.

“It was my first mission.” I close my eyes and turn away from Nadiya. It was too much to admit, let alone look someone in the eyes and tell them. “I was sent to Michigan—right on the border of Canada. Or what used to be Michigan and Canada. Supposedly there was a pack of werewolves preparing to march up north. Get away from the incoming military, start fresh. There was a rumor an alpha was amongst them, and my orders were simple. Eliminate them all. No survivors—women and—” I stop for a moment, a knot forming in my throat. The truth was hard to say and even harder to swallow.

“Women and children were not to be spared.” Nadiya’s eyes are on me as I try to shake it off. I do, but she doesn’t let up; she sees past the facade of my cold, compassionless tone. The truth is, it ate me up for centuries. Sleep was the only way I could stop the torment. The screams.

“When I got there, they were easy to find. Werewolves have this smell to them that almost feels like lemon in your eyes, but for your nose. Once I found the pack, they were ready for me—no alpha in sight. There were mostly children and women, a few elderly. Not one of them was an immediate threat.”

I remember their faces. The way their eyes watched every move I made. The little boy who jumped out in front of me and showed me a trick I had never seen before.

“There was a boy, no older than six, and he was the first to confront me. He screamed at me to leave, told me he was the alpha of the pack and demanded I respect him. I thought he was cute, funny even. That’s until he partially shifted. His nails grew into claws, light brown fur trailed up his arms, and his eyes took on a yellow hue. I remember being shocked and taking a step back, but⁠—”

I don’t want to push myself any further. Tapping into that part of myself is something I don’t like to do. It reminds me of how angry I was, how lost I felt. That was until I found my way to the academy.

“What happened?” Nadiya’s soft voice causes me to jump.

I turn to look at her. “The little boy told me his dad was coming back and would rip my head off. I loved his fight, but I could smell his fear. Children’s minds are frugal. There is nothing complicated about them. If I wanted to, I could weave all of them together like a fishing line and have them throw themselves into a pit. But I didn’t with these children. I had orders—direct orders.

“His mother stepped forward and tried to beg, telling me the little boy had never met his father. That he was a coward who refused to show his face when he betrayed their people and partner for others who seek to destroy their family. I thought that was interesting. If that little boy was an alpha—which would make sense with his shifting abilities—his father would’ve been the alpha.”

I look down; there is no way I can finish this story focused on Nadiya. The pure Popov who is probably known for being just as perfect as she looks. “I killed them all. Slaughtered them where they stood. I know why, now. Onyx sold them out. He was that boy’s father, and he was—is—the alpha. The last one.”

My legs move before I decide if it’s appropriate, taking a big step back and a deep sigh at the admittance of slaughtering children who were just trying to find a home. I hang my head in despair, tears flooding my eyes. I hate that I can cry now. Emotions are already hard enough, but displaying them publicly is a living hell.

Fast-paced footsteps sound toward me, and before I know it, Nadiya is hugging me again. Another thing I need to get used to but fear I won’t. Nadiya likes to hug a bit too much for me. Not that it’s wrong of her, but I wish she would lay off the ‘trying to comfort me’ thing. I deserve to be sad. I deserve the misery my actions caused.

But this hug feels…different. Instead of comfort and sympathy, I feel like she understands my pain. She never told me I was right, or my actions were acceptable. She just saw me in that moment, and could see I regretted it. That’s what matters the most to me.

She pulls away slowly, her hands trailing down my arms until they grip mine tightly. “So, what’s the next step?”

The question is warranted, but I don’t have a solid answer—not yet, anyway.

“Well, alphas live until there is someone strong enough to replace them. Werewolves are still in the B.C. timeframe of things, so it’s always a male child, which would mean Onyx has been at this a long time. Long enough to master his shift and his strength. But the question still stands—what does he have going on with the humans? What does Everett’s family have to do with any of this? Why would the Premier Leader kill them?”

The questions fly out of me. I thought saying them out loud might grant me some type of clarification, but instead they make me even more confused.

“So,” Nadiya smiles, “what’s the next step?” she asks again, beckoning me to the thing I’m desperately trying to figure out.

A few scenarios play out in my mind. The first is tracking down Alexander and torturing him for information. He would last maybe ten minutes if I was a betting person. I could tell Nadiya to go back to Boston to continue with the original plan while I search for Onyx in the meantime.

But there are a couple loose ends. Bunny would be in danger. Ciro and the rest could protect her, but I can protect her better. There’s Benny, a male witch with no casting abilities—well, I think he has no casting abilities. Then there’s Everett. A tortured back story, his entire life dedicated to revenge for his own family. The idea of abandoning him for my own revenge feels very wrong.

I sigh heavily, the answer right in front of me.

“Looks like we gotta go back to Boston. I hope the council will help us. You know what? I know the council will help us.”

My words sound like lies as I say them. I don’t let it be known, though. If I don’t have any hope, what does that mean for the others?

28

INTIMACY > SEX

EVERETT

Isit in the living room with Benny and Ciro, and the silence is deafening. I’d rather have thirty conversations going on at once to distract everyone. I know they are thinking about me. Ever since Marzana left, I’ve felt like a shell of myself. Six days of waiting, of sitting by the window filled with worry. I don’t know when I became so attached to her, but there is no going back.

It affected everyone, though. Benny found comfort in Constantine, but Constantine has been on edge since day two. I heard her say at one point it shouldn’t have taken this long, which made me worry they had been caught. The idea that she could be halfway across the world and I would have no knowledge of it ate at me.

Soft moans filter from down the hall. Gray and Malcolm haven’t left their room in a couple of days, for which I’m honestly grateful. Gray scares me more than I care to admit, and Malcolm is just…Malcolm. He always has something to complain about or an opinion about something. It was so thoroughly exhausting that when they didn’t come out the first day, then the second, I nearly celebrated.