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"Silver...bullets." Jayce fought hard to speak. "Shot...she was shot!"
That had Neo darting his gaze to me, and he fought to run towards me, but he crashed into an invisible wall, which made his eyes widen.
"Willow!" he screamed. "What are you-"
"I'm disappearing," I whispered, fighting hard to keep it together as my tears streamed down my face. Saint slammed against the protective wall I’d created from my previous standing place to where I’d tackled Dimitris.
The sound of triggers made all of them freeze, and the soft chuckle of a man coming out of the darkness alerted us that we were no longer alone.
"On behalf of Dubai, we're here to finish what Roberto declared was ours."
I fought to remain standing, my whole body shaking as I focused on inputting even more magic into the barrier that protected my pack.
The pack I've been discarded from.
"You have two choices, love," the slim man that came out of the shadows announced, a gun that was clearly filled with silver bullets in his hands. "Either come with us or feel our wrath."
I chuckled and shook my head.
"Sorry, boys," I whispered and lifted my head to let them see my eyes, which were surely charged with the remaining magic I had left. "I'm not a part of their pack, so killing them would be treason. Didn't you hear the Alpha? I don’t belong. It was an error of judgment. As he said loud and clear. Their pack won't thrive with a human like me."
My words were as lifeless as I felt, my eyes locking onto Neo as he shook his head in disagreement. He tried to speak, but it was as if his voice was suddenly muted.
They all seemed to panic as they tried to get their voices out, but the spell was about to complete its purpose, which made the man frown while I grinned in triumph.
"What?" I whispered and began to laugh like a maniac. "You thought I didn't realize you were hiding in the shadows, controlling Dimitris like a fucking puppeteer? Do you think De Lucas are that stupid?"
He pulled the trigger and I was shot from multiple directions. I could see Onyx's agony as his muted screams did everything they could to reach me. I fell to the ground, struggling to breathe as blood began to drip out of the multiple wounds in my body.
"You should have obeyed," the man declared.
Instead of replying, I laughed. It was a cackle of sorts, one that seemed to make the others question how I was still alive. I fumbled with the zipper of the windbreaker, the thin, plastic-like fabric sliding off my body before I fought hard to stand up.
A few of the men gasped like I was some sort of zombie, and the only reason why they weren’t riddling me with another round of bullets was due to their commander's raised hand that told them not to fire.
My body was covered in blood that was from my pouring wounds, the ground beneath my feet already pooling with red liquid that filled the forest with the metallic stench.
"Fun, fun, fun," I repeated the word and opened my eyes to see the horror in their eyes. "You think Papa Dearest raised a weak bitch?"
My head moved to one side as a creepy grin formed on my blood-tainted lips.
"Kill her!"
The men followed orders with another round of bullets, but all the bullets stopped before they could hit me, hovering in the air. The men all froze in pure shock.
My smile couldn’t be any wider as a hysterical wave of laughter left my gritted teeth.
"Papa Dearest didn't raise a weak bitch," I repeated and made sure they all heard what I had to say. "When I was three, he shot me in my leg. When I was five, he broke my arms and legs. When I was nine, he beat me for days for being imperfect, and when I was twelve, he tossed me off a cliff. When I was sixteen, all the torture began, and he made my body a dartboard for silver-infused injections."
All of their eyes tainted with fear as I laughed into the cold night. "Injections became silver whips, while my wrists, ankles, and neck were shackled with silver chains. Silver might as well have been my middle name, for that's all that clung to my flesh day and night."
I lowered my hands and moved them like I was tugging at strings that were inside my body, and their horrified expressions only doubled as the bullets that plagued me began to leave my body and hover in the air with their brothers and sisters while dripping with blood.
"Papa Dearest loved silver bullets the most, and they were the ones that fought hard to kill me," I whispered as if it were a sin as my eyes darkened and tears ran down my cheeks. "But guess what?"
The pin-drop silence was the confirmation I needed to continue. The pink moon was at the peak of the sky, as if she, too, was listening to what I had to say.
"I'm a survivor," I emphasized as my face darkened. "I don’t belong because of the magic from my mother's side. I don’t belong because that magic was tainted by the shifter blood of my father's side. I don’t belong because my human blood has meshed with the two. I don’t belong because I carry uncontrollable magic that could get rid of the masses with the inability to shift due to my unstable mental state and longing to belong, and I can’t even act like a human because I'm superior to them all. So where does that leave me?"
