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I did this.
“Whoa,” Nicolai mutters quietly, that one word summing everything up pretty well.
My only answer is to turn around and empty the contents of my stomach on the stone floor.
ChapterTwenty
Idid what I had to. I know that, yet it doesn’t change the fact I’ve taken a life. I’m a murderer.
Grove attacked Haven, tortured and killed countless witches, and was going to hurt my mates and me next. He was killing me, crushing me, and about to cut my throat, and I did what I had to do in order to survive. He’s caused so much misery over the course of his life, especially in his position of alpha, so in taking his life, I protected the lives of many.
Yet, taking a life changes you. I feel older, like a heavy weight has been added to my shoulders. Holding that power in my hands and knowing that I could so easily take a life is both heady and terrifying. I want to go back to the innocent girl who loved running in the forest with the wolves, who knew nothing of magic and war and witches. However, if that were the case, I never would have met my mates or discovered that I have a brother. My power never would have developed, and I’d always have an empty part of my soul that I was never able to fill.
Either way, there’s no point in dwelling on what might have been, as it’s not possible to turn back time.
With a deep breath, I stand up straight and take comfort in having my mates close, especially as they lay a hand on me. Nothing dramatic happens, no one pulls me into their arms, not even Syn who is back in human form now. They all sense my need for both comfort and space. If they were to make a fuss over me or crowd me like I usually prefer, then I’d break down and not be able to function. I can’t afford that luxury right now.
Feeling more like myself and emotionally stable, I open my eyes and scan my mates, checking for any injuries. I don’t see anything obvious, although Atlas looks exhausted from using his magic.
“We should find Kano and the queen. I’m sure Bates will be wherever she is,” I suggest, remembering what Luna told me when she first found me.They want to speak to me. I’m assuming the “they” is Bates. He seems like the type to launch an attack like this.
Luna steps forward, and Atlas makes space by his side for her to join our little huddle. “Laelia, are you okay?” Luna asks gently, seeming to expect me to fall apart at any moment.
I give her a sad smile that I don’t feel. “No, but this isn’t over yet.”
There will be time to break down later. In the meantime, there are witches who need our help.
We find evidence of the werewolves as we work our way through the hallways. Pictures have been slashed, candles lie in pieces on the ground, windows are smashed, and drapes are torn to pieces as though they were used in a game of tug-of-war.
Following the trail of destruction, we find ourselves approaching the ballroom. Instead of the usual guards standing to attention by the grand doors, we find a group of werewolves in their human forms. They grin when they spot us. Tensing, I wait for them to race towards us and attack, and from the tension in the bonds, I know I’m not the only one.
Only, that never happens. They watch us as we approach, and only when we’re several meters away does one step forward. He’s taller than the others and walks with a swagger that suggests he’s fairly high up in his pack. I discreetly sniff the air and confirm that none of these males are alphas. My two alphas could have them rolling on the ground and showing their bellies like puppies if they wanted to, and I have to bite my lip to hold back the snort that image conjures.
“We’ve been expecting you. Now that you’re here, the party can really begin. Come,” he barks, ordering us about like a dog.
Syn takes great offense at this and steps forward threateningly, his alpha power swelling around him like an angry storm. The effect is immediate. Whining, the males at the back of the group shrink in on themselves, their shoulders rounded as they try to make themselves small and non-threatening. Some of the weaker males even fall to their knees. One shifts into his wolf form, pressing himself as low as he can to the ground, his ears flattened to his head in a show of submission.
The male at the front fights against his instincts, but ultimately, he can’t resist kneeling to the alpha.
“I follow no one but her.” Syn jerks his head towards me, his voice a deep rumble.
Joel hums in agreement behind me, and I can just imagine the look on his face. He and Syn might butt heads, and they might not always agree, but they’ve learned to work together.
Syn returns to my side and gestures for me to lead the way into the ballroom. It feels like we’re walking into a trap, but we don’t have many options, so I roll my shoulders back and lift my head high, calling Star to my side. Then, as a group, we enter the ballroom.
The room is full of people, but as I scan the space, I take note of the fact that there are less people here than there should be. A naïve part of me hopes that they’ve merely managed to stay hidden during the attack and are somewhere safe and alive.
Witches line the walls, all huddled together, leaving the centre of the ballroom clear and open. At first count, I see six werewolves in wolf form, and at least ten in their human forms. Sixteen werewolves against a whole ballroom of witches should be an easy fight, but without their magic, it skews the power dynamics.
At the back of the room is the queen’s throne, and sure enough, the ruler is sitting in her favourite place. However, her face is pinched, and as I look closer, I notice she’s got a split lip. In fact, she looks nothing like the pristine woman we usually see. Her shiny, perfect hair is a mess, and her face is pale and without makeup. Instead of her usual grand gowns, she’s wearing loose, casual clothes that you’d expect to see someone to wear on a lazy Sunday. It seems she’s been affected by this just as much as the rest of the witches. Two males stand behind her as a constant threat and reminder of what will happen if she acts out.
Noises like I’ve never heard before pull my attention to the foot of the dais where Ivar is thrashing around under the hold of two males. They are far stronger than him thanks to their wolf genetics, but even they are struggling to hold him down as he rages against them. His black eyes are wide, and his lips are pulled back in a snarl, revealing long, sharp teeth. He’s more like an animal than a witch right now.
Glancing at the other figure at the base of the throne, I feel a huge wave of relief as my eyes lock onto my brother. Kano has the beginnings of a black eye, and he’s leaning slightly to one side, making me think he injured his leg, but he’s alive. He won’t meet my eyes, keeping his stoic gaze forward, which makes me think he’s doing it on purpose. Bates might not know about our connection, and even if he did, he might not know how close we’ve become. By ignoring me and not reacting to my presence, he can keep up that appearance in an attempt to stop the alpha from using us against each other. It’s a good plan, and one I’m going to stick with.
Knowing that I can’t linger in the doorway forever, I slowly enter the ballroom, making sure each step is strong and firm. I refuse to give any sign of weakness. Bates hasn’t noticed me yet, his attention on Ivar, who seems to be getting himself more and more worked up. It’s torture to watch, and even those who usually shy away from him are watching on with sympathy, yet no one tries to do anything to help.
“Ivar,” I call, hating to see him suffering. As soon as he hears my voice, he visibly calms despite my quiet, gentle tone. Breath heaving from his chest, he turns his head and locks his unusual eyes on me. I try to smile at him reassuringly, but I’m sure it looks more like a grimace. He seems to take comfort from it, though, and slowly nods his head, his body relaxing as he stops fighting against the males holding him.
