20. Grace

Chapter 20

Grace

-Part of Me- Afterlife-

I stand on the porch, the chilly evening air brushing against my skin as I watch Griffin, disguised as Ethan, roar off on his motorcycle. Barrett’s arms encircle me, offering solace as I fight the urge to dart inside and seek refuge in Ethan’s embrace. With every rev of the engine fading into the distance, the ache in my chest deepens, and my bottom lip trembles with suppressed emotions.

The eyes of my pack mates follow me closely, gauging my reaction to ‘Ethan’s’ departure. I take mental note of those who seem particularly attuned to my emotional state, recognizing their concern amidst the tension of our plans.

Eventually, when the sound of the motorcycle is nothing but a distant echo, we retreat into the house, the weight of our mission settling upon us like a heavy cloak. The time for action has arrived.

I steal a glance at Ethan, my gaze fleeting yet laden with unspoken understanding. He nods subtly before turning his attention to his phone, fingers deftly dialing the numbers we need. Soon, I’ll slip into the woods, each step a deliberate move towards Ambrose’s territory, as meticulously planned.

Nicolai stands ready, entrusted with protecting our children alongside Barrett and Conrad. “Everything is set.” The weight of responsibility hangs in the air as Ethan’s voice fills the room, relaying the signal that our carefully orchestrated plans are now in motion.

Mid-day creeps upon me like an unwelcome visitor, and an icy shiver slithers up my spine, setting my nerves on edge. With a cautious glance towards the dense woods, I allow my vision to merge with that of my wolves, seeking any sign of danger lurking in the shadows. Suppressing my innate abilities, I cloak myself in the guise of a vulnerable, defenseless female, relying solely on my wiles and instincts to guide me.

Each footfall is a whisper against the soft carpet of moss beneath me as I venture forth into the unknown, following the path laid out before me. Tendrils of connection to my mates offer the only semblance of security in this eerie wilderness.

The woods, normally teeming with life, now exude an unsettling coldness, a silence so thick it suffocates even the chirping of birds. My eyes dart around, scanning the horizon for any hint of movement, any flicker of danger.

But the landscape remains still, a stagnant moment of foreboding. Every gentle breeze sends me spinning, my nostrils flaring as I strain to catch the faintest whiff of the rogues’ scent. They’ve honed their skills, masking their presence with a mastery that renders even my heightened senses useless in this treacherous game of cat and mouse.

“Where’s my daughter?” Hunter’s voice cuts through the air, carried by the wind like a chilling omen.

My heart lurches in my chest as I spin around, my eyes scanning the surroundings frantically. The world seems to hold its breath, every leaf on every tree frozen in anticipation. But there’s nothing, just the empty expanse of the forest stretching out around me.

“Where is my daughter?” Tightness grips my lungs, squeezing them like hands wringing a sponge, as Hunter’s voice echoes once more, closer this time. I can almost feel his presence looming behind the ancient cedar trees.

“My daughter is safe,” I utter, though my voice trembles, betraying a fear I’ve manufactured. Through the bond we share, I allow my mates to see Hunter’s imposing figure emerge from the shadows. Ethan’s roar echoes in my mind, and I quickly suppress his reaction, keeping our connection hidden.

“Bring her to me. I need her, I need you,” Hunter demands, his voice a low growl as he draws nearer, his steps deliberate and unwavering. Every movement is scrutinized, every gesture analyzed for any hint of vulnerability.

“Never,” I growl, my voice a low, menacing rumble that reverberates through the tense air. Each thundering heartbeat in my chest pulses with the urge to unleash my primal nature, to let the wolf within me reign. Sensing my inner turmoil, I feel my mates drawing nearer, their presence a comforting anchor in the storm of emotions raging within.

“You will be mine, Grace. You are mine,” Hunter snarls, his words dripping with possessiveness and malice. Before my eyes, he undergoes a grotesque transformation, his form contorting as he shifts into his beast. His wolf appears ragged, as if it has been pieced together haphazardly, its mangy fur bristling as it advances towards me, hostility emanating from every fiber of its being.

My senses are attuned to the approaching footsteps of my mates, their silent solidarity lending me strength. With a grim determination, I face Hunter, steeling myself for the confrontation that is inevitable.

“You will die today, Hunter,” I declare, my voice carrying the weight of my resolve. With a fierce intensity, I allow the shift to overtake me, my human form melting away to reveal my true essence—a snow-white wolf, radiant and powerful as the lunar wolf. I raise my head defiantly, a primal snarl escaping my lips as I prepare to meet my ex head-on.

The voices of my mates echo in my mind, urging me forward as I charge towards Hunter with a primal fury. Surprised by my sudden onslaught, he hesitates for a fleeting moment, his surprise palpable in the air between us.

In a blur of motion, my jaws clamp down on his throat. I taste the metallic tang of blood as the hot rush of fluid floods my mouth. I thrash and growl ferociously, feeling the sharp sting of his claws tearing into my fur as he struggles to break free from my grip.

We crash through the forest, limbs flailing, tumbling down the hillside amidst the tangled underbrush. Each thorn, rock, and stick that pierces my skin sends a jolt of pain through my body, and I can feel Hunter enduring the same damage.

Finally, we reach the bottom of the hill, and as I rise, I grimace, feeling a chunk of furred flesh tear away from my body. The air is thick with the scent of blood and sweat, mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest.

Shaking off the dizziness, I let out a primal, guttural howl, my death song echoing through the trees. It’s a cry of defiance, of my raw determination, as I prepare to launch another assault.

But as I charge towards Hunter, I realize my efforts have only succeeded in ripping away his skin, leaving the muscle, tendon, and vein beneath untouched. The sight fuels my fury even more, driving me to push forward with renewed vigor.

Hunter lunges at me once more, teeth bared. I instinctively sidestep his attack, feeling his sharp nip grazing my ribs as he whizzes past. Around us, my mates and fellow pack members form a tight circle, their eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and anticipation.

Deep down, they understand the gravity of this moment. They know that this isn’t just a battle for dominance. I need to reclaim a part of myself that Hunter stole from me that fateful day in the field. Part of me needs to reclaim the agency she stole from me when his ferocious assault nearly cost me my life.

Hunter’s grip tightens on my shoulder, his canines sinking deep into my flesh. The searing pain shoots through me, igniting every nerve ending. A sharp yelp escapes my lips before I instinctively twist my head, sinking my own canines into his fur.

With a violent thrash, I feel the skin tearing beneath my teeth. Blood fills my mouth, metallic and thick, as my claws catch in a previous wound, adding to the damage. I tear down, ripping through his flesh, muscles screaming in protest with every movement.

The struggle is consuming every inch of my being engulfed in the fiery intensity of the fight. Pain radiates through me, pulsating with each beat of my heart. Hunter’s teeth shift in my shoulder, the pressure changing as he adjusts his grip, sending fresh waves of agony coursing through me.

Amidst the chaos, my wolf’s voice echoes in my mind, a relentless chant urging me on: kill, kill, kill... And I comply. I open my mouth once more, seizing Hunter’s throat from a different angle. The sudden gush of warm blood flooding my senses tells me I’m nearing the end.

With one final, violent thrash of my head, a torrent of blood floods into my mouth, and Hunter’s struggles wane. His paws, once clawing desperately at my ribs, falter, their grip weakening, as he frantically tries to cling to me, but to no avail.

The rushing blood in my maw distorts my vision, tinting everything with shades of crimson. Instincts surge within me, threatening to overwhelm my humanity. I’ve heard the stories—the moments when the wolf takes control, refusing to relinquish its hold. But I refuse to succumb.

With every fiber of my being, I fight against the primal urges, struggling to maintain control over my body. Deep growls rumble from my throat, a primal symphony of defiance against the encroaching darkness. I can feel the strain, the tension in my muscles as they protest against the internal battle.

Amidst the chaos, I hear the distant sound of pops and tears, the telltale signs of Hunter’s suffering. Yet, in that moment, nothing matters except the need to protect my babies from his menace.

My paws dig into the soft earth, anchoring me in place as I adjust my grip, tearing and pulling with a ferocity born of desperation. The calls of my mates fade into the background, mere echoes against the roaring fury within me. Hunter must pay for what he did to me. My children must be safe.

A plaintive whine pierces through the haze of rage, drawing my attention like a beacon. It’s a cry—a baby’s cry. My baby’s cry. In that moment, the primal urges yield to the overwhelming instinct to protect.

Reluctantly, I release Hunter’s throat, turning towards the source of the cry with a snarl. My senses sharpen, honing in on the scent of my son, Deacon, mingled with the familiar aroma of my mate, Ethan.

“Darlin’, Deacon needs you. He’s hungry,” Ethan’s voice breaks through the haze, a lifeline in the darkness.

Still bristling with aggression, I stalk forward, head lowered and canines bared. I’m ready to defend my offspring at any cost. Ambrose’s voice cuts through the tension, a reminder of the precarious balance between humanity and the wild that rages within me. “Place Deacon on the ground. She’s almost lost to her wolf.” Ambrose’s words hang in the air, a stark reminder of the fragile line I walk between humanity and savagery.

I bury my nose in the bundle on the ground, inhaling deeply. The rich, earthy scent of my son soothes my wolf's instincts, calming the turmoil within me. With a contented sigh, I lay down beside him, curling protectively around his tiny form. Tenderly, I lick the crown of his head before gently pulling him closer between my paws. His laughter, like tinkling bells, fills the air as his small hands grip onto tufts of my fur.

Lost in the warmth of the moment, I lose track of time, the world around us fading into the background. But the voices of Nina and Ashina pierce through the tranquil haze, bringing me back to awareness. Slowly, I open my eyes, fully in control once more. My daughters nestle against my side, seeking comfort in the aftermath of chaos.

Behind them, Conrad, Barrett, and Lorcan approach, bearing a robe and shoes for me. With a heavy heart, I lift my head, surveying the scene before me. The forest lies in ruins, reminiscent of a battleground. Memories of past dangers flood my mind, sending shivers down my spine.

I lean down to sniff each of my children, reassuring myself of their safety before turning my attention to the surrounding area. My mates and allies form a protective circle around us, their faces tense with concern. But one crucial figure is missing—Hunter’s corpse.

Chunks of fur are scattered around, remnants of the fierce battle that unfolded. My gaze settles on Griffin, seeking answers in his steady gaze. “When we get home, I’ll tell you everything.” His words cut through the tension like a knife, promising clarity once we return home.

As Conrad drapes the robe over my back and our allies respectfully withdraw, a sense of foreboding settles over me. There are secrets lurking in the shadows, waiting to be unearthed. And when we return home, I know that the truth will finally be revealed.