28. Grace

Chapter 28

Grace

-Wolf- Saint Astoria-

The rest of the drive through the winding roads to reach the Cruz pack lands is cloaked in silence. Each twist and turn of the road seems to amplify the weight of the impending meeting. I take advantage of the quiet to message Barrett, and his response only serves to heighten my unease. He and Nicolai are at Ruby’s house, watching over the babies. The news of the recent attack on the edge of Volkov lands sends shivers down my spine, stirring memories of the confrontation with Hunter not too long ago. It’s unsettling how close these threats are drawing to home.

Nicolai’s mention of his trusted betas, including his cousin Clem, being assigned to our protection detail does little to ease my nerves. I find myself staring at the messages from Barrett and Nicolai, a mix of reassurance and concern swirling within me. With a frustrated sigh, I toss my phone onto the dashboard, the device feeling heavy in my hand.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” Ethan’s voice breaks through the heavy silence, his touch gentle as his hand finds its place on my thigh.

“I’m not defenseless,” I reply, frustration lacing my tone. “Why does everyone treat me like I’m still some fragile human?”

Before Ethan can respond, Lorcan interjects, his voice steady but firm. “You have six lives tied to yours. If they manage to harm you, capture you... there’s nothing any of us wouldn’t do to get you back.” His words hang in the air, a somber reminder of the weight of responsibility I carry not just for myself, but for those who depend on me.

I bow my head, my hand seeking Ethan’s for comfort, and release a heavy sigh. “If I knew I was dying, I would set you all free,” I confess softly. It’s a conversation I’ve been having with Ethan’s mom for weeks now, a weight that hangs heavily between us. The words spill out, not from selfishness, but from a desperate desire for our children to still have their fathers by their side.

“I forbid it. I die when you die. Do you hear me, Gracie?” Ethan’s use of my childhood nickname pierces through my resolve like a blade. His words, laced with determination, shake me to my core.

“But the babies need you,” I murmur, my bottom lip trembling as I meet his gaze, fighting back the tears threatening to spill over.

“I refuse to live without you again,” Ethan declares, his voice filled with raw emotion as he pulls the car over and puts it in park, turning to face me fully. “Don’t you understand how vital you are to all of us? How much we love you?” His words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken truths.

Ethan sighs, his head lowering, and I see the pain etched in every line of his face. “Free the others, let me die with you,” he implores, his eyes hollow with anguish. In that moment, I realize the depth of his love, his willingness to sacrifice everything for me. And in turn, I know I would do the same for him, for all of them. I would gladly give my life to save theirs, then set them free with my last breath.

“How about we try not dying?” Lorcan’s thick brogue slices through the heavy atmosphere, momentarily lifting the weight pressing down on us.

“That would be ideal,” Ethan responds, his hand tightening around my thigh, a silent reassurance, as he maneuvers the car back into drive, propelling us forward along the road once more.

As we crest the next hill, the scene before us unfolds in a landscape of devastation. It’s as if a raging stampede has torn through the once serene surroundings. Saplings lie snapped in half, their broken forms scattered amidst a chaotic array of moss and dirt. The air is thick with the pungent scent of churned earth, and tufts of fur litter the ground as far as the eye can see.

A part of me is inexplicably drawn to the destruction. A curious fascination mingled with a sense of dread. Yet, another part, more sensible and cautious, urges restraint, warning against venturing too close to the aftermath of whatever calamity has transpired.

As the car grinds to a halt, my heart lurches at the sight of Griffin standing amidst the chaos, his silhouette etched against the backdrop of destruction. Without hesitation, I fling open the door and step out onto the scene.

The air is thick with tension, the acrid scent of smoke and fear mingling in the breeze. I close the distance between us, my senses on high alert, taking in the devastation with a slow, deliberate sweep of my gaze.

“What happened?” I demand, my eyes flicking between Griffin and the beta werewolves from both Nic’s and Cruz’s packs, who stand grim-faced amidst the wreckage. Anxiety gnaws at me as I take in the scene, the devastation overwhelming. The air is thick with the acrid scent of smoke and blood.

“The elder has seized control of the rogues since Hunter’s demise,” the beta explains, his voice heavy with weariness as he gestures towards the ravaged landscape. “He tore through here like a hurricane, leaving nothing but destruction in his wake.” The sight of the ruined forest and the shattered lives tugs at my heart, the pain almost palpable.

My gaze shifts to Ethan, who meticulously examines the crime scene with a steely determination. The intensity in his eyes mirrors the storm brewing within me. “How many fatalities?” I inquire, a knot tightening in my stomach even before the beta has a chance to respond.

“Eight,” he answers, his gaze falling upon the scattered remnants strewn across the forest floor like macabre offerings to long-forgotten gods. The weight of his words sinks into me, each one a dagger to my heart.

“Ethan?” I call out, my voice cutting through the tense air like a knife. His head snaps up, and his eyes meet mine, reflecting the turmoil swirling beneath the surface. There’s a fierce determination in his gaze that both comforts and unsettles me.

“There were at least ten wolves with the elder,” Ethan begins, his voice low and gravelly. He picks up a rod from the ground, its weight unfamiliar in his grip. “One of them was wielding a bow, picking off our patrol from a distance. No poison on the arrows, just a distraction.”

I watch as Ethan’s demeanor shifts, subtle yet unmistakable. The primal essence of his wolf stirs within him, a dangerous undercurrent beneath his human facade. Instinctively, I move closer to him, sensing the volatile energy simmering just beneath the surface.

“Strip and shift,” I urge him gently, my voice a soothing melody amidst the chaos. “Your wolf is close to the surface. Let it out.”

With a nod, Ethan sheds his clothes, his movements tense with anticipation. Before long, his wolf bursts forth, a magnificent creature with eyes that gleam with primal intensity. He rubs his muzzle against my thigh in a gesture of silent gratitude before lowering his nose to the ground, scenting the air with purpose.

“Grace?” Lorcan’s voice breaks through the moment, drawing my attention away from Ethan’s transformation.

“Yeah?” I respond, my focus shifting to Lorcan as he approaches, his expression earnest and filled with a mix of hope and fear.

“I can see better as my wolf. I can help Ethan search,” Lorcan offers, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. Glancing back at Ethan, I see him lift his head in acknowledgment, a silent acceptance of Lorcan’s offer.

“Shift,” I encourage Lorcan, offering him the opportunity to contribute to our mission. Griffin, standing nearby, looks as though he’s about to protest, but I silence him with a shake of my head. Lorcan needs to feel valued, to know that he has a place within our family. Hopefully, this gesture will reassure him of his worth.

Griffin’s embrace envelops me, his presence offering a fleeting comfort amidst the turmoil. “If there’re any clues, Ethan will find them.” His words, laden with reassurance, brush against my skin like a gentle breeze, but they cannot quell the storm raging within me.

“We don’t need clues, Griffin,” I murmur, my voice tinged with a raw determination that burns deep within my chest. I turn to meet his gaze, my eyes locking onto his with an intensity born of desperation. “What’s done is done. We need to find their lair and hit them hard.”

Griffin’s touch guides me to face him fully, and his eyes, searching mine, find only the fierce resolve simmering beneath the surface. His lips brush against my forehead, his breath mingling with mine, a silent acknowledgment of the weight we both carry.

“We can’t save everyone, Grace,” he murmurs softly, his words a somber reminder of our limitations. Yet, even as he speaks, I refuse to surrender to despair.

“No, we can’t,” I concede, my voice firm, echoing with a stubborn defiance. “But we can damn well try harder to prevent the next slaughter.”

Turning my attention back to the betas, I seek answers amidst the chaos of our thoughts. Their gazes shift uneasily, a silent acknowledgment of the grim reality we face. “Where was the first body found? Do we know who died first?”

“Aaron was the first to die,” one of them speaks up, his voice heavy with sorrow. “He was found three hundred yards that way.” He gestures toward the distant mine, a haunting reminder of the bloodshed that stains our land.

As the pieces of a plan begin to coalesce in my mind, I feel a surge of purpose coursing through my veins. It’s time to shed the mantle of a mother and embrace the role of a strategist in this grim game of survival.

“Guys, we need to head home. I have a theory,” I declare, my voice cutting through the silence with a newfound clarity. With a determined stride, I break free from Griffin’s embrace and make my way toward the waiting car, leaving no room for hesitation or doubt.

-Two hours later-

Sometimes, being the Lunar Wolf has its perks. I can reach out directly to Ambrose and the former alphas overseeing their territories. With everything that’s unfolding, I need all the support I can muster. Even the freshly appointed Alpha of the Wolverton pack is en route.

Pacing the pack house’s interior helps to steady my nerves, bit by bit. The familiar creak of the wooden floorboards beneath my feet brings a semblance of comfort. Over at the main table, I observe Nicolai and Griffin meticulously arranging the two maps I requested. The first depicts the rugged terrain, its contours and elevations etched in fine detail, while the second is adorned with markers representing all the mines and structures in our domain. From my bag, I retrieve my notepad. With the information within its pages, the map is soon adorned with colorful pins as I mark key locations, each pin a beacon of strategy and hope.

Conrad’s voice breaks through my concentration as he enters with 3D-printed miniatures in hand. “Need any help?” he offers, his tone warm and reassuring.

I pause, considering, before replying, “No, this is perfect.” His presence is a balm to my frayed nerves. Sensing the arrival of some of our guests, I close my eyes momentarily, extending my senses to perceive what else is unfolding beyond the physical realm. The subtle energies weave a tapestry of intent and emotion, each thread a whisper of what’s to come.

“Can you show everyone in?” I request, my eyes fluttering open. “It’s Ambrose, Cruz, and the new alpha, so far.” As I await their entry, I take a moment to attune myself to the subtle energies swirling around us, seeking any additional insights they might offer.

Ambrose leads the procession into the pack house, the shuffle of feet echoing against the polished wooden floors. Guests follow suit, their murmurs blending into a soft hum as they settle into their seats. Conrad, ever the gracious host, guides them to their designated places, while I navigate toward the head of the table, my heart pulsing with a mix of anticipation and nerves.

Ruby, Agnes, and Nicolai’s father, Uri, complete the assembly, their presence lending an air of solemnity to the gathering. As I stand before them, a wave of apprehension washes over me, tinged with determination.

“I’ve never called a meeting of this magnitude before, so please bear with me.” I address the room, my voice steady despite the flutter in my chest. With a confident stride, I reach for the pointer stick, its smooth surface cool against my fingertips, and gesture toward the map adorned with miniature models.

“If you would be so kind as to direct your attention over here,” I request, tapping the map to draw their focus to a specific point. The room falls silent, anticipation palpable in the air.

As I trace the red pins on the map, each representing the recent attacks, I feel a weight settle upon my shoulders. These markers, like crimson stains against the parchment, serve as a stark reminder of the challenges we face.

“And now, the blue pins,” I continue, moving to indicate the locations of the caverns with a sense of purpose. The cool hue of the pins contrasts sharply with the warmth of the room, their significance not lost on any of us.

I pause, allowing the information to sink in, the gravity of our situation hanging heavy in the air. This moment, this gathering, marks the beginning of a journey fraught with uncertainty. My heart races, but resolve steels my voice. We are ready to face whatever comes.