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“It’s no use,” the fallen wolf said. “The hounds’ swords carry the Black Fire. Nothing can help me now.”
“Marrok…brother…” Lawson said, feeling tears form in his eyes.
“We held them off as long as we could,” Marrok said.
“You fought bravely,” Lawson said, and everyone else nodded behind him. “It was not in vain. We made it to Rome and averted the massacre. The timeline is intact. Romulus is dead. The Great Beast of Hell has been silenced.”
Marrok smiled and coughed; dark blood dribbled from his chin.
“What can I do for you, my brother?” Lawson asked. “How can I ease your passage?”
Marrok closed his eyes, and Lawson was afraid he had already lost him. Then, with some effort, he opened them again. “Promise me again what we promised back in the underworld. That you will free all of our people, that you will not rest until we return to our former glory, as guardians of the abyss. Use your power to restore order and keep the timeline pure. Now that the passages are open, time is vulnerable. You must guard them, protect against their misuse. It is imperative that they do not fall into the wrong hands. Even as Romulus has been defeated, there are others who will use the passages for their own gain. The Dark Prince…”
“You have my word,” Lawson said, clasping his hand.
They sat there together for a long time, long enough that Lawson thought maybe Marrok had been wrong, maybe there was a chance that he could make it. The rain continued to fall, washing the dirt from Marrok’s white hair, mixing with the tears now streaming from Lawson’s eyes.
Edon, Malcolm, Rafe, and Ahramin all knelt down on the muddy ground, encircling the fallen wolf. Bliss knelt with them, next to Lawson, pushing his wet hair off his forehead and then placing her hand on his back. The feel of her palm steadied him as he watched Marrok fighting the pain. Was it possible? Was there any hope?
Marrok lifted his head to look Lawson in the eye. “It’s been an honor, Fenrir,” he whispered. Then he closed his eyes. His skin went gray, then black as the fire of Hell consumed him.
“Goodbye, my friend,” Lawson said.
Lawson regarded his pack. His brothers: Malcolm, Rafe, Edon. Ahramin, who had returned to them. Bliss, the vampire in their midst. He turned to her now. “The Fallen need us for this task, you say. To help them in this war against our masters.”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “We will go with you. We will help you,” he said. He had meant what he’d said; he should never have doubted her for a moment, regardless of her parentage. Bliss Llewellyn was his friend. Maybe more, if he would let her be. It was too soon to think of that now. His feelings were too new, too painful after discovering what had happened to Tala. He thought of what the oculus had shown him. He had asked it to show him his mate, and he had seen Bliss in the light. Did they have a future together?
“You have a wolf’s name, and like us, you are a creature of the underworld. If you take the pact, you will be one of us,” he said.
“I’ll say the words, if you will lead,” she said softly.
Together they formed a circle and began to recite the words that bound them to each other.
We are wolves of the guard, soldiers of the light.
Hunted and haunted, by the beasts of the night.
Friend to all and foe to none,
Love and loyalty bind us as one.
Time and tide shall heal all wounds
Memories and madness shall not consume.
To death and despair we shall never surrender,
The pact never to be forsaken, or torn asunder.
Lawson laid a hand on Bliss’s cheek. When he removed it, her skin glowed with a pale blue crescent sign.
He turned to the other girl. His onetime rival, his onetime alpha. “Ahramin, you have returned to us, and we accept you as our sister once again.”
“I am proud to run with you once more,” Ahramin said. She felt her cheek in wonderment. “My sigil—it’s returned,” she whispered.
Then slowly, one by one, the six wolves walked back into the forest.
