29. Chapter Twenty-Nine

"Go get Ivan," I ordered Heath, my heart pounding. "We can try to save one of them."

Iosif's fate was sealed. That was the only explanation.

He walked out of the room with a sense of great urgency. He was back quickly with a beaten and starved werewolf, whose large, dark eyes seemed hollow.

"You've been a brave wolf," Heath whispered to him. "I just need you to be brave for a little longer, okay?"

Ivan's blank stare was heartbreaking, but I couldn't imagine this werewolf had much hope anymore. His sister was dead. After surviving being beaten nearly to death, she was then murdered by her own pack. This man had taken revenge into his own hands, and it changed nothing for them.

Don't worry. We're going to fix this, Ivan. Devora is lost, but not all hope is.

"Let's go," Heath said softly. "Hisao, if it needs to happen, I want you to run and find a vehicle. Everyone, follow the black cat. He'll get you out of here."

Hisao growled, looking between Heath and me.

"I'm fine, brother. Sergey will know I'm in the group, but he doesn't know who you are. We can't let him learn that Hasan sent the Assassin on this mission."

Hisao nodded and agreed, but the next growl told me he hated the idea of leaving me and Heath to meet the werewolves.

"Let's go meet the werewolves," Heath said softly.

"Do they talk to each other?" my mother, Helene, asked.

"They have a simple understanding of growls between them. They have human forms, but those wouldn't be helpful for this mission. If we get out, you can ask them any questions you like," Heath answered. "Let's move, everyone. We can't hide down here and get trapped."

Heath went up first. Hisao and I followed as a wall of power between our enemies and the vulnerable prisoners. I looked back as he climbed up the stairs. Daniel was carrying his son, and my father was carrying his granddaughter. My mother reached out and took Ivan's hand, pulling him along as she whispered to him.

"You can stay with us, young man. We won't leave you behind," she promised.

She had always had a gentle soul when it came to strangers. I was glad to see that one positive was shining in this dark place.

Heath went through the door first. I could smell the blood and knew the scent.

Iosif.

He had been a great help. My fury turned cold as I followed Heath outside and saw the young werewolf with a dark spot between his eyes.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. They'll pay for that, Iosif. I promise they'll pay for it.

I looked at the group assembled in the yard in front of the prison. Sergey stood in the middle, with werewolves behind him in a semicircle. I could only assume they were his inner circle, newly formed since he took power.

"When my patrol caught your scent, I decided not to raise the alarm and make my pack anxious at the idea of an intruder," he explained, smiling coolly at us. His eyes lingered on Heath, then flicked a glance at me. There was a bit of a shock when he looked at Hisao, a massive, dark werecat, built for the kill. "I knew where you would go. I never thought you would convince one of my werewolves to betray me, but that's easy to solve." He nodded to someone behind him, who came forward and grabbed Iosif's ankles, dragging the body out of the center of the group. "String him up as a warning, then tell everyone to leave their homes and come see what we do to traitors and intruders." Three werewolves peeled away, and Sergey looked back at us, smiling.

"It didn't need to be like this," Heath said, standing strong at the front, Hisao and me flanking him. I bared my teeth in warning, just a show of strength and a willingness to fight.

"I'm a new Alpha. It has to be this way. I'm certain you understand. New Alphas cannot tolerate any test of their control or power. In the beginning, we need to rule with an iron fist, beginning our time as Alpha with strength, not weakness."

"Have you smelled the air in your village? You didn't need to beat or kill any of them. You just needed to start treating them better than Vasiliev did. Obviously, you want to maintain his legacy, instead of creating your own."

"You American werewolves are so soft," Sergey said softly, shaking his head. "You want to take care of them. They are supposed to serve you, to see your goal through—"

"Being an Alpha isn't a one-way street, Sergey. You have to provide for their needs as well."

"And I do. They have food and shelter." Sergey shrugged. "If they're so weak, they need a hug because we've hurt their feelings, they do not need to be in this pack."

"Then let them leave instead of killing them," Heath pressed. "And let us leave."

"Why should I? By the looks of it, you've brought me not one but two werecats to keep. They can be good bargaining chips with Hasan, or they can die to my pack and further advance the projection of our strength. One day, we can take Callahan and Corissa down, and there won't be anyone to stop the dominance of my pack."

I wondered for a moment if Heath was afraid. I was, but the werecat body didn't give off emotional scents the same way as a human one. It would be masked. Heath's scent was just gone, as it had been for days. Sergey wasn't just trying to keep his pack strong the way Alpha Vasiliev had built it. He was trying to expand their reach and rule and dismantle any powers that might stand in his way.

Suddenly, his ability to blackmail me if we took the trade went from dark to downright villainous.

Behind him, a post was put up and on it, Iosif's body, wrapped in rope to hold him. It dropped a couple of feet as if it had been fitted into a hole and held straight up, showing everyone. A male speaking in Russian came over an old intercom system. Lights turned on in the houses beyond Sergey and werewolves shuffled out of their homes, guards shoving them to keep them in line.

Sergey wanted us to see this. Maybe not me or Hisao, but he was definitely rubbing salt into Heath's wounds. Heath's strong profile was shadowed and angry as the werewolves were led to see Iosif's body. A woman's scream filled the night, rising over the shuffling of feet and angry orders from the guards. The scream pierced ears, a deathly wail of grief and pain. A sound no one needed to hear in their lives.

Sergey spoke sharply in Russian.

A gun went off, and the screaming ended.

Iosif's cousin had just been murdered.

Every second that rolled by looked more hopeless as grief and anger swirled in the night air and not even the breeze could send it away. It saturated into the very ground and the surrounding buildings. It was the essence of this place.

These werewolves needed to take the anger they had and fight. If anyone could change the very essence of this place, it would never be an Alpha like Sergey. Every single werewolf with him probably saw his vision as a grand thing.

But the werewolves looking at Iosif, the others huddled around a woman's dead body? They could change it. They needed to change it. They needed to rise up. They needed to be defiant. They would never survive in this world if they didn't fight for themselves.

Gwen, you said I would make a good politician. The mark of any good politician is the ability to move a crowd. Let's see how good I am.

"Heath, Hisao…I'm going to do something insane. Iosif knew English, and I think a lot of people here might."

His breathing changed, but I didn't look at him, focusing on the crowd. Hisao shifted his weight between his front paws but made no other movement.

I needed to get my family out. I needed to see Sergey and his werewolves go down. I needed to see another sunrise for Mischa because, apparently, she cared more for my life than I did.

And Heath—I needed to get Heath back to Carey.

"Werewolves of Russia!"I called out mentally. "You have been oppressed for too long!"

Sergey's eyes went wide. He looked around, wondering who was speaking, then turned slowly back to my group.

"What is this?" he demanded softly. The gun in his hand lowered just enough in the shock of what was happening.

"You've been subjugated and beaten. You've been chained and whipped. You've lost the rights you have as living, breathing werewolves and humans. You've had your lives stolen from you! And you're angry!"

"Which one is it?" Sergey demanded, waving his gun between Hisao and me. "Which one?"

"Werecats can't speak mentally," Heath whispered, reminding Sergey of what every werewolf knew. "That's pack magic."

Sergey stepped forward another few feet, closing some of the distance. He lifted his gun and pointed it at Heath. I had to fight my instincts to react to the threat.

"Tell me," the Alpha growled.

"Fight back! Defy the powers that be and prove you have your own!" I roared in their heads. "Don't let there be another Iosif! Don't let there be another Devora and Ivan! Now is your chance!" I roared and leapt forward, landing on Sergey as his gun fired, sinking claws in his chest. I felt fire on my side, but I had come for Sergey at an angle, so whatever he hit wasn't my center of mass. The bullet also wasn't silver…a wonder. Was it too hard for them to acquire here?

A deafening roar of the crowd followed suit as I ravaged Sergey's body.

"Hisao, get my family out of here!"I ordered mentally as I jumped for another of the high-ranking werewolves near me, who were too surprised to lift their weapons. I didn't have much of a chance. The crowd was now rowdy. Guards were being tackled to the ground and assaulted. Some were firing back, taking out the uprising of the younger, lower-ranking werewolves.

With a second werewolf dead, I lashed out at a third, scoring his leg with my claws and exposing his femur. He screamed, and I reached out, biting down on his arm, yanking until I felt tendons and muscle rip, and a joint pop out of socket. I tore his arm off and threw it to the side as he screamed and fell to the ground. Gunfire and screams of both victory and pain were all I could hear. The wave of rage I had unleashed was all I could smell.

I dove into the crowd, taking down werewolves, trying to control my instincts to kill all of them. I didn't want to kill the innocent.

Teeth entered my back leg. I turned and swiped at whatever was back there, hitting a werewolf in wolf form, sending it flying into a mass of people, who beat it to death. I was able to separate my friend from my enemy as some cheered me as I prowled in the fight, while others raised their weapons on me. I leapt for a guard and landed on him after another werewolf was able to yank his gun away.

That werewolf didn't last very long underneath me.

Finally, a hand touched me, and I nearly lashed out, but I saw grey-blue eyes when I turned.

"We need to go. Hisao is getting a truck ready for us." He was practically yelling to be heard over the crowd.

I nodded and created a path out of the madness. Once we were free of the riot, he began to jog, and I followed, finding Hisao naked as he hotwired an old truck.

"Let me finish," Heath said, patting my brother on the shoulder. "Change back and cover our exit."

Hisao jumped away and started his Change without missing a beat.

I turned and saw a group of werewolves running for us. I didn't know if they felt we needed to die or if they were following orders from Sergey before he died, but they were coming on four legs, ready to fight.

I blocked my brother and family from them and met the first head-on. With a hard bash from my paw, a skull was crushed. One latched teeth in my shoulder. I shook hard and tried not to fall from pain as something dragged the wolf off me, its teeth taking some of my flesh.

A truck started up behind me.

"Let's go!" Heath yelled. "Let them chase, but we need to move!"

"Go!"I screamed, directing it at him, so only he heard it. "Just go, Heath!"

The sound of the truck slowly started to fade. Hisao and I fought hard, dispatching werewolves as quickly as we could, then started running before another group of them could come after us. We got out of the village, trying to catch up with Heath and the truck. My shoulder screamed in pain, and I was bleeding in more than one spot, but the pain wasn't enough to stop me. I needed to run.

Howls filled the night air, overriding the sound of chaos in the village. As we ran for the trees that were our way home, a large pack ran out of the very woods we needed to enter. There had to be over a dozen wolves.

All I could think was that this was the patrol, waiting for us to try to leave. They didn't know what the chaos was in the village. They had their orders, and now, they could use their mission to earn favor with the werewolf who took control once the revolt was put down.

Or they just saw two werecats and escaping prisoners and wanted to stop us. Sometimes, things were just that simple.

Hisao and I picked up as much speed as we could while Heath simultaneously slowed down and let us pass him. We launched into the pack and started tumbling, trying to kill all of them, so Heath could get through without risking the members of my family.

It was bloody but effective. They tried to dogpile us. Hisao was cleaner and more efficient, bigger and stronger, but I held my own, tearing limbs off when I got a hold of them.

The truck passed us as Hisao raced after the last werewolf and crushed its life in his fangs. We followed the truck, running behind it, our noses to the air, waiting for more to follow us.

An hour later, none came, and we were home free. Hisao and I ran behind the truck for the entire journey. My legs were on autopilot, even as my injuries healed. I couldn't ask Heath to stop and let me in because we needed to be vigilant. If another group of werewolves somehow pursued us, Hisao would need help. None of my injuries were bad enough that I needed to worry about losing too much blood. They just made me sore and my muscles stiff.

I was limping at the end. My body was depleted, and the pain was gone, but only because I had run until my legs were numb. When the truck we had taken from Mischa was in sight, I nearly collapsed, my body trying to give out a little too early. Heath pulled up beside it, and I went around to my clothes.

Next to my ride home, I began to Change, not thinking about anything but potential sleep. I didn't think about the humans in our group or the werewolf, Ivan, though I could smell all of them.

I finished the Change and sighed, unable to stand, so I leaned against the truck, legs stretched out. In my human form, I could feel how much the run had torn up my feet. I looked at my hands and saw the scrapes and raw sections on my palm and fingers. My shoulder was on fire again, but I was too tired to think about it. My ribs stung from that initial gunshot.

A gasp made me look up. Helene Duray was standing in front of me, her mouth agape, her face pale.

"Hey, Mom," I whispered or tried to.

A scream was my lullaby as I fell to the side, unconscious.