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The pain is excruciating, but I ignore it. With every passing moment, the Shadow Schemer’s movements become slightly slower, its defenses weakening, and I grab the opportunity, driving it back toward the wall. With a growl, I drive the silver knife through the Shadow Schemer’s throat, pinning the creature to the wooden panel. Dark red blood explodes out of the wound, splashing against my face and staining the wooden panels behind the creature. The high-pitched scream it releases pierces my ears, but I don’t flinch because I still need answers.
“Who hired you?” I demand, pressing the knife harder into the creature’s throat. “Who sent you here to find me?”
The Shadow Schemer gurgles, its voice choked with blood, but it manages to utter a few words. “They... sent me... the pack... betrayed... you...”
Each word carries a weighty truth, crashing down upon me with an unsettling force. I lean in closer to the dying Shadow schemer. “Tell me who exactly.”
The shadow schemer’s trembling lips struggle to form the words, its fading life clinging desperately to the last traces of its existence. “They... your... your brothers,” it wheezes, the admission hanging in the air like a noose.
“Were you supposed to take me back to my pack?”
The Shadow Schemer’s voice grows faint, barely audible. “Hunters... supposed... to kill... you.”
The truth echoes through the passageways, wrapping around my heart with icy tendrils. Betrayed by my own flesh and blood, I find little surprise in it, but the pain it causes cuts deep. Did my dad play a role in this? How deep does the rot of betrayal run within my family’s veins?
Stepping back, I tighten my grip on the hilt of the silver knife lodged in its throat and twist it. “You failed,” I hiss.
Life fades from the Shadow Schemer’s eyes, and I pull the silver knife from its severed throat. The creature’s lifeless body crumples to the ground, a hollow shell devoid of the evil it once possessed. A sudden jolt startles me, and my eyes dart towards the wall, to the exact place where the creature had been impaled just seconds before. The wooden paneling has shifted, revealing an unexpected escape route. I can’t do much about my brothers right now, but I sure as hell can rescue Xavier.
Emerging from the secret passageway, I’m greeted by a bone-chilling sight that steals the air from my lungs. Xavier’s living room is an absolute wreck. Furniture lies in ruins, tossed, and turned, and the metallic tang of blood fills the air, clinging to every surface. Right in the center of this chilling scene is Xavier, his body pierced by a long silver sword that anchors his shoulder to the ground, resembling the way I had subdued the shadow creeper. A heavily muscled hunter is straddling Xavier’s waist, his fingers curled around a stake, poised dangerously close to Xavier’s heart.
Without a second thought, I yank the gun from my waistband, raise my arm, take aim, and fire. The bullet finds its mark dead center in the hunter’s chest, causing him to topple backward and release his grip on the stake. I rush to Xavier’s side, his face etched with pain and exertion.
“Lyra, you have to remove the sword,” he gasps. “It has barbs, and I can’t pull it out from this angle.”
I shake my head, realizing the danger. “It will tear you open if I pull it out.”
“Do it,” he insists.
I firmly grasp the hilt of the sword with both hands, bracing myself. I start pulling. The sword resists at first, its barbs digging into Xavier’s flesh, causing him to grimace in agony. Beads of sweat form on my forehead as I strain against the resistance.
I give one final, hard tug, and the sword begins to slide out of Xavier’s shoulder. The barbs catch and tear at his flesh, causing him to curse in pain, but I can’t afford to hesitate now. Gritting my teeth, I continue to pull, my muscles burning with exertion.
The sword finally comes free. It’s a good weapon, and I wonder why I haven’t considered a sword. I would look pretty badass carrying a weapon like this around. But the pieces of Xavier’s insides still clinging to the metal distract me. Bile climbs up my throat, and I have to swallow hard.
It doesn’t help that there is a gaping hole in Xavier’s shoulder. Blood seeps from the wound, and I can see the severed muscle and bone underneath. It’s disgusting, but now that the sword is removed, his wound can heal. The torn edges of the wound converge, and as they meet, the skin begins to bulge and pucker until it forms a scab. I discard the sword, but before it even hits the ground, Xavier’s wound is gone.
With surprising agility, considering he just had a sword in his shoulder and a stake inches from his heart, Xavier scrambles to his feet. Covered in a canvas of blood, Xavier and I lock eyes, the silence between us heavy with unspoken words. My chest rises and falls, a storm brewing inside, while his chest remains an immovable facade. But the trembling muscle in his clenched jaw betrays his unease, a restless energy simmering beneath the surface.
“Little wolf, I thought I was going to lose you.”
“I told you, I was strong and could hold my own.”
“You faced off against a shadow schemer, and here you are, defying death. I should have never doubted you.” His gaze traces the splattered blood on my face, but his eyes quickly shift to my arms and legs, noticing the long, deep gashes left by the shadow creeper’s relentless assault. Concern washes over his face as he realizes the extent of my injuries. “You’re hurt,” he exclaims, his voice filled with genuine worry.
I offer him a faint smile, trying to downplay the pain. “It’s nothing, it will heal. All that matters is that I got here in time to save you.”
“Why did you save me? You could have let the hunter’s stake pierce my heart, breaking the spell. You could have abandoned me.”
This is the edge, the crossroads where truth demands acceptance or rebellion. My brothers have committed the ultimate betrayal, and the elders have fed me lies for years, filling my head with bullshit. My pack despises me, rejecting my very existence. A half-blood like me has no place in this world.
But maybe, just maybe, I do.
Xavier couldn’t give a damn about the blood running through my veins; his desire for me trumps all the shallow prejudices society clings to. It’s an all-consuming hunger that defies reason.
My wolf prowls within me, restless like a caged beast, her fierce growls echoing through every fiber of my being.
“Mine, mine, mine,” she snarls, possessive and defiant.
