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Howling.
Fear clawed its way up my throat, choking me. Grabbing Laurent by the shoulders, I steered him towards a wardrobe in the corner. “Stay in here. Do not open this door for anyone but me. Understand?”
“I understand, Seb.” Laurent was shaking even more now. No doubt that was because of my reaction. We were too far for him to be able to hear the racket at the castle.
I pressed a hasty kiss to his lips, hating that I had to leave him. “I will be back, Laurent. Do not fear.”
“I have nothing to fear.”
That was right. He knew I would not let anything hurt him.
I did not bother locking the cabin. No ordinary lock would keep out a wolf shifter. I just had to pray that they were all distracted at the castle and would not come looking this far out.
The screams and shouts got louder as I drew closer to my home. I was the wind between the trees, moving so fast that my feet were barely touching the ground. Every howl had my fear ratcheting higher.
Just how many wolves were there?
I raced through the door we had left via earlier, skidding on a pool of blood.
The servant I had smiled at earlier was slumped against the wall, a gaping hole where her throat had once been.
Fury began to wend its way through my veins. How dare these wolves break into our home? How dare they hurt those under our protection?
We would make them all pay.
Grabbing my stakes from my belt, I ran for the banquet hall. I passed three more bodies in the hall, all servants who had been with us for decades. The final one was only feet away from the doorway to the hall, a knife clutched in his hand, as though he had died trying to defend my family.
He would be buried with the highest honours, but first, I needed to assist the others.
Stepping carefully over his body, I came to a halt in the doorway.
The sight made my vision go hazy. For a second, it was as if I had left my body and was floating above the horrifying scene. A shrieking noise filled my ears. A scream. Where was that coming from?
Oh. It was coming from me. From my mouth, contorted in horror. From my heart, which lay in pieces.
I tried to take it in. But I could not.
I could not focus on what remained of my papa, recognisable only by the tunic he had been wearing.
Nor on Maman, her bloodied body cradling Amelie’s.
Even in eternal death, she was trying to protect her.
But she had been too late. Amelie was too still. Her curls too matted. Her pale skin now scarlet.
Magnus had fallen close to them. His unseeing eyes were staring at the pair, as if he had wanted them to be the last thing he saw before he relinquished his immortality.
“Seb!”
Geralt’s roar had me slamming back into my body. My brother was fighting off three wolves. Panic filled his eyes as his arm was torn from his body. “Seb, run!”
I did not think. I just moved.
My first stake found its home in the neck of the wolf who still had Geralt’s arm in his jaws. The second I thrust through the jaw of another.
The third wolf? I grabbed his snout between my bare hands, shoving it backwards until there was a satisfying crack.
Geralt fell to the ground, his body trying and failing to heal itself. “Seb, you have to run. Leave. It is too late for me.”
