8. Waylen

8

WAYLEN

M y eagle was on high alert, every muscle in my body tensed, ready to spring into action. But I couldn't just attack—not with Lyra and Alma so close. I had to think, to strategize, and to find a way to protect them without anyone getting hurt.

Xander stood there, his eyes gleaming with that familiar, terrifying cold darkness Dean and Astrid had mentioned. My eagle went wild. His urge to break free and fight Xander—to tear into him—was almost unbearable. But I couldn't give in, not yet. I needed to keep a clear head.

Damn it, how did I let it get this far?

I should have told Lyra and Alma the truth about everything from the start. About why I was really here, about who I was looking for, and about the danger that I should have known would inevitably follow me. I'd been so focused on keeping my secrets that I'd put them both in danger.

If something happened to either of these women, I'd never forgive myself.

Think, Waylen. Think .

I had to figure a way out of this mess soon. If not, Xander would be in all of our heads soon, not just Alma's, and I couldn't let that happen.

Locking eyes with him, I tried to figure out his next move. If I stayed one step ahead, I might be able to get us out of this mess.

"Let her go, Xander," I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "Whatever you want is from me. Not them. Let them both go. This is between you and me."

Xander's grin widened. I knew it wouldn't be that easy. After all, he was possessed by Lucius, and Lucius would have never backed down because someone asked.

He chuckled, and I felt my anger toward him rise. "You think it's that simple? That I'd just let them go because you asked nicely?"

I clenched my fists tight, my eagle straining beneath my skin, eager to burst free and shred him to pieces. I held him back, giving into my eagle now would only escalate the situation.

I had to be smart about this.

"Alma," I called out while keeping my gaze locked on Xander. "You don't have to listen to him. You can fight him. You can block him out."

At least, I hoped she could. Xander was possessed by Lucius, and I prayed that meant Lucius's power was diminished in him compared to what it had been when he was alive.

Alma didn't respond, but Lyra shifted on her feet beside me. She had to be confused about what was going on and worried about her grandmother.

Damn it. This was all my fault.

Xander clicked his tongue, shaking his head in mock disappointment. It was something Lucius would have done. If I'd had any hesitation in believing Xander was possessed, it would have evaporated right then.

"You see, Waylen, the old woman and I have an understanding," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "She's being agreeable because she doesn't want her granddaughter to get hurt. I'm guessing that's a desire you share, correct? Not wanting Lyra to get hurt."

My blood boiled at the sound of her name coming from his lips.

"Xander," I said, my voice low and steady. "What do you want? What's your end goal here? Why are you even doing this?"

I didn't understand his motive. While I knew what Astrid and Dean had said—that Xander felt we'd all betrayed Lucius, that we couldn't see what he'd chosen us to be a part of and how important it was—I wanted to hear it from him.

"What do I want? What's my goal?" Xander asked, his voice a chilling echo of the ruthless shifter whose spirit he carried. "Power, control, and for shifters to not hide in the shadows anymore. I want us to stand up as the superior race, like we should. But first, I want the heads of those who betrayed me. Those who stood by and watched as the Ashen Tribe took me out."

He was saying me —as though he was Lucius.

Aw, fuck. This was so not good.

Lucius had been a tyrant in the brief time he was in Crescent Creek, and it seemed as though Xander truly was his vessel.

This needed to end now.

"You're not Lucius," I said, trying to get under his skin and throw him off balance. "You're just a puppet, Xander. A shell for a dead man's ambitions. Are you that weak of a man? So weak you'd allowed him to take you over?"

For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something pass through his beady eyes, but it was quickly replaced by that cold, dark hollowness that had been there before.

"Weak?" he demanded. "Xander was the strongest out of all of you. That's why I chose him."

"Could have fooled me," I deadpanned.

Lyra eyed me. Her worry was palpable. She thought I was making a mistake by saying what I had, by egging him on.

Maybe I was, but it was the truth.

Xander hadn't been the strongest of us under Lucius's thumb while he'd been alive—he'd been the most complacent.

There was a difference.

"Now," Xander whispered.

Shifter magic surged through the air and Alma's owl burst from her in the next instant.

Shit. Now I'd have to fight an old woman.

Alma's movements were stiff, and I knew it was because Xander controlled her. She didn't want to fight me or Lyra. This was all against her will.

I remembered what that felt like, and I hated it for her.

"Lyra, stay back," I warned.

I couldn't let her get caught in the crossfire of this, and I damn sure didn't want her to unintentionally harm her grandmother. She'd never forgive herself for it. I knew she wouldn't.

How the hell was I going to put an end to this madness?

As Alma's owl took flight, my heart sank. I couldn't let this escalate into a full-on battle. I needed to break Xander's control over her without causing any harm to the old woman. My eagle stirred within me, and I gave in, shifting in a rush of feathers and wind. Maybe I could draw her attention away, make her chase after me.

I soared through the open front door and outside. Alma followed. My eagle instincts kicked in, and he took us high in the sky. He knew Alma wasn't the enemy, though. We couldn't use our full strength against her. We couldn't stray too far away either, because that would leave Lyra with Xander—which wasn't going to fucking happen.

My eagle glanced at the cabin. Lyra had made her way into the driveway below us. She watched on in horror, her eyes darting between her grandmother and my eagle.

Flying closer to Alma's owl, my eagle tried to graze her with his talons just enough to have her retreat, but not to intentionally cause her harm.

"Waylen, no!" Lyra shouted.

Shifter magic filled the air again, and in the next instant, Lyra's owl was in the air with us. My eagle drew back, giving Lyra and Alma room. They circled one another, locking in an airborne dance.

Was Lyra attempting to tire her grandmother's owl out?

If so, it was a good strategy.

Movement on the ground caught my eagle's attention. Xander had stepped into the driveway too. Shifter magic sparked in the air around him as he gave way to his raven. While he was smaller than my eagle, what he lacked in size, he made up for in speed, because he was on us in an instant.

Xander's raven dove at my eagle, but he dodged him. Barely. The wind from Xander's raven's wings brushed against my feathers, and even my eagle thought it was too close of a call.

When Xander's raven lunged at us again, my eagle was ready. As our wings clashed with a force that sent us both tumbling through the sky. However, my eagle's talons managed to graze the raven's side.

A surge of satisfaction rushed through us both, intensifying when dark feathers fell from him.

Xander's raven recovered quickly, though. His beady eyes burned with fury as he locked his sights on my eagle, but then he dove toward where Alma and Lyra's owls circled one another below.

It was such a Lucius move.

My eagle dove after him, knowing we couldn't let him get to them. Xander's raven was fast, but my eagle forced himself to be faster. With a powerful beat of his wings, he intercepted him, forcing Xander's raven to veer away from the owls or collide with us. He veered, but my eagle stayed on him. Extending his talons, my eagle gripped hold of Xander's raven mid-air and squeezed, sinking his talons deep into him. A sharp cry escaped the raven's beak, but pain shot through my eagle's side moments later as Xander's raven struck him, his beak drawing blood.

Still, my eagle didn't let go.

Lyra's owl swooped in, striking Xander's raven and putting an end to his relentless pecking at my eagle's side. My eagle didn't let go even then. Instead, he tightened his grip, drawing an angry caw from Xander's raven.

It looked like a coordinated attack was the way to go.

Lyra's owl swooped around, ready for round two, but Xander's raven let out a harsh, guttural caw before she reached him. It was filled with an unnatural darkness that seeped into the surrounding air, thickening it to a near-suffocating density. It unsettled my eagle and me, causing a chill to run through us both.

Which was all the distraction Xander's raven needed to free himself from our grip.

My eagle soared after him, his wings cutting through the air with a force I hadn't realized he possessed, but Xander's raven was too fast. He used his smaller size to his advantage, weaving through the trees with an agility my eagle's larger form struggled to match.

It didn't stop my eagle from trying, though.

As we flew after him, racing through the sky, Xander's raven suddenly shifted direction, and aimed straight for the ground. My eagle followed his lead, plummeting toward the earth in a dizzying rush. At the last moment, Xander's raven pulled up, and then launched himself over the treetops, skimming them enough to rustle the leaves. My eagle attempted to keep up, but collided with a branch, the impact jarring him and slowing us down.

Shit.

Xander's raven used my eagle's mishap to his advantage, gaining distance between us as he retreated farther into the woods. Rage blistered through my eagle and me, but the damage had been done.

Xander's raven was disappearing, and we both knew that we wouldn't be able to catch up to him before he was out of sight.

He'd won—for now.

Reluctantly, my eagle turned back. His pride was stung, and he was upset, but I reminded him that we'd successfully protected Lyra and Alma. His irritation eased because they were what mattered most.

Once we were closer to the cabin, Lyra's owl flew to meet us. There was a sense of relief reflected in her eyes. I understood it, because I felt it too. The fight with Xander and his raven was over—for now—and her grandmother was safe. Lyra's owl fluttered to the ground near where her grandmother lay, and she shifted back into her human form. Even my eagle noticed how shaken she looked, how dazed and confused, but she was unharmed.

That in itself was a small victory.

My eagle landed beside them and stepped aside for me. When I shifted, my body was battered from the blow with the branches and Xander's raven's incessant pecking. I was too focused on Lyra to care, though. She rushed toward me, pulling her clothes back on, her wide eyes focused on my injuries.

"You're hurt," she said.

"It's nothing," I assured her. "Are you okay? Is Alma all right?"

She nodded, her gaze still locked on my wounds. "We're fine." Her gaze lifted to meet mine. "Thanks to you," she whispered.

I shook my head, not wanting her gratitude because I didn't deserve it. "I should have been honest with you from the start. He was here because of me. This is all my fault. I'm sorry."

"You did what you thought was best," Alma said, her voice firmer than I'd expected. "We all have our secrets. What matters is that we're safe, and that damn raven is gone."

I cracked a grin. Old people cussing would never not be comical.

"He'll be back. He won't give up that easily," I said, knowing it was true. I couldn't sit around and wait for his return, though. "I need to know where Maribel is."

Alma gave a slow, shaky nod. She attempted to stand but wasn't strong enough. Lyra rushed to her side to help.

"I'm okay," the old woman insisted, though her voice wavered.

"No, you're not. You need to rest," Lyra said, steadying her. "Here, let's get you inside."

"I just need some water, and to sit for a minute," Alma argued.

I stepped in to help Alma inside the cabin, my body aching. The adrenaline from the confrontation with Xander had started to wear off, and the pain from my injuries was becoming more pronounced.

Once we had Alma inside, Lyra helped dress her and then settled her on the couch before making her way to the kitchen for a glass of water. I shifted my attention to the old woman, wanting to ask again for information on Maribel, but noticed she looked as though she was about to fall asleep.

The woman had been through it.

I could see the toll the ordeal with Xander had taken on her—the lines of exhaustion etched deep into her face, the heavy rise and fall of her breaths. I knew all too well the kind of exhaustion that came from battling Lucius's mind control. It wasn't just physical; it drained you on a much deeper level.

Alma had fought hard today, and it was clear she had nothing left to give.

Lyra made her way into the living room with a glass of water, but Alma had already closed her eyes. She set the glass on the coffee table and then turned her attention to me.

"Let her sleep. We need to clean those cuts," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

I nodded, allowing her to lead me through the cabin. I wanted to say something, to apologize to her again, but any words I could muster seemed inadequate. While we might be all right for the moment, I'd seriously dropped the ball in this situation.