Chapter 15

Myla

Brielle and Blythe’s cozy den had a distinctly masculine vibe, but I saw Brielle’s bright, colorful touches throughout. My mates convinced me to take a break from worrying and spend time with my packmates. I conceded, but with the lockdown, it was hard to forget the pack was in danger because of me. The guilt was heavy on my heart.

“You’re thinking of doing something stupid,” Blythe said.

My cheeks grew warm. “I’m not—”

She cut me off with a look. “Are you going to sit there and try to convince me you weren’t just blaming yourself for the lockdown?

“Well . . . no . . . but I—”

“No one blames you for any of this,” Brielle said. “This is all on Blood Moon, and believe me, they’re fucking with the wrong pack.”

“They sure are,” Blythe agreed, crossing her slender arms over her chest.

I did my best to smile, but their words did nothing to soothe me.

“The meeting with Silver Fang is coming up. If our packs join forces, it will level out the playing field as far as numbers go,” Brielle said.

“But it will put us ahead in terms of skill,” Blythe added with a mischievous smile.

“How so?” I asked, curious.

I knew nothing of fighting. Though two of my mates were Enforcers, I’d never seen them in training or combat.

“Valor told us the Silver Fang Alpha’s wolf is almost feral. He has the strength and speed of three wolves and a blood lust that makes him a ticking time bomb on the battlefield,” Brielle said, looking pleased.

That sounded horrifying.

“He’s also as paranoid as Alpha Wynn, so his wolves are practically mercenaries,” Blythe said, nearly bouncing out of her seat.

The thought of cutting down enemies satisfied the sisters.

I’d never noticed it before, but Brielle and Blythe were . . . vicious.

Strangely, I liked it.

“It sounds like we’ll be in an even better position after today’s meeting,” I said, hoping they couldn’t detect my forced positivity.

“Yup. The quicker we get rid of Blood Moon, the sooner we’ll only have the witches to worry about,” Brielle said.

Brielle told us that Shiloh had identified the captured witches, confirming the Council’s involvement in the attack on our pack. Via their dark magic allies, they attempted to manipulate us into either seeking their protection or engaging in warfare with Blood Moon. From what I’d heard, they couldn’t force our hand or discredit us publicly, so they had resorted to deceitful, cruel methods, preying on the pack’s vulnerabilities.

For me, it wasn’t about Blood Moon’s barbaric customs or the Council’s power plays. It was about the guilt gnawing at my insides. If I had never stumbled across Hidden Creek’s border, two pack members wouldn’t be missing. It was my fault the threat of war loomed over them.

I was to blame for the misfortune befalling the Hidden Creek pack—no matter how gracious they were by telling me I wasn’t.

“Enough war talk,” Brielle said. “When are you going to decide where you want to station yourself permanently? People are talking about all the good you’re doing for the elders.”

My first genuine smile of the day tugged at my lips. “Well, there’s no official position for it, so . . .” I lifted a shoulder, letting my words fall away.

“Why don’t you talk to the Alpha? I’m sure he could create an official position for you,” Blythe said.

“That’s a great idea. We need someone to pay more attention and ensure they don’t slip through the cracks,” Brielle said.

“I’ll ask once everything settles down,” I said. “Alpha Wynn is already dealing with too much; I don’t want to bother him right now.”

We moved on to lighter topics, and I spent the afternoon attempting to forget my worries. As the sun began to set and I prepared to head home, an uneasy feeling settled over me. I couldn’t shake the suspicion that something was off. I ignored it and said my goodbyes to Brielle and Blythe before waiting for Gentry on the porch.

I breathed in the cool evening air as the sky transitioned from light blue to a purple and navy swirl. Most pack members were already inside, adhering to the new rules. I should have called and asked Gentry to pick me up earlier, but I got carried away while talking about the impending birth of the Alpha’s pup. Isolde was ready to burst, and pack members were making bets on how many weeks she had left.

A sound caught my attention. It was low and curious, slithering across my skin like a caress. The wind picked up, and a chill danced down my spine. Part of my brain lit up, and my wolf growled beneath my skin.

Her resistance reverberated through my head, pounding against the fog that built a barricade between the two halves of my mind.

This wasn’t normal or natural. A smooth voice spilled through my mind—bright, cheerful, and comforting. My heart raced as broken fragments of my memory pieced together.

It was my mother’s voice. Flashes of my life from long ago—barely more than a dream—constructed a pixelated version of her face behind my eyelids.

I knew it was her, even though I could scarcely remember.

Logic told me she’d been dead for years, even as the voice pulled at my heartstrings.

Come, my sunlight. I’ve been waiting for you.

The melody became tangible, like the hand of a parent guiding a stubborn child. My legs moved without command, changing course and heading into the trees.

My head ached, and my wolf’s growls grew muted.

Quickly, Myla. I’ve missed you , the voice said.

The rustling leaves parted like welcoming arms. The air changed as I stepped through the foliage, but the wall separating me from my wolf held against her onslaught. My stomach lurched, curdled, and soured. But still, I continued walking.

Stop , my wolf called, her voice muffled.

The fog cleared, and I tried to halt my movements but couldn’t. Panic crept in just as the mist crashed over me. The compulsion tugged harder—fingers turned to claws and sank into my flesh.

The resistance drained from my muscles even as the alien feeling sparked my desire to fight. My traitorous body followed the sound as my heart jumped in my chest. Suddenly, silence descended like a shroud.

I vaguely recognized where I was. The trees were denser, which was the first indication that I was approaching the border on the west edge of Hidden Creek territory. Just beyond the tree line were rogue lands.

Fight it , my wolf cried. Don’t let them take you!

Them . The word struck me like a sledgehammer. I clung to it, struggling against the pull, the sound of my mother’s voice, and the song that roared in my ears.

Harder! My wolf cried, her voice closer than before.

The song swelled, and my body vibrated with tension as I battled against the immovable force, feeling like a lamb being dragged to the slaughter.

Shadows swirled among the trees on the other side of a clearing, and I struggled harder.

The leaves were moving.

And then I smelled a scent both alluring and sinister, wrapping around me like smoke. Fear prickled at the edges of my mind, but I couldn’t tear myself away.

Magic.

My wolf raged on the other side of the wall in my head, beating against it like a wild animal, and finally, a crack appeared. I hammered at it with renewed purpose, motivated by the small victory. The fissure spread, and my two halves became whole as the wall shattered.

Even so, my body never stopped moving. I was like a puppet on a string, yanked toward a destination I couldn’t see but dreaded all the same. Mind intact once more, I felt for the bond, and it flared to life.

Desperation clawed at me as I pushed my emotions down all four threads in a feeble attempt to summon help.

My wolf granted me her strength, and together, we fought against the insidious magic that held me in its grip.

Volatile energy swept through the clearing, singing the hair on my arms.

This was dark magic.

Witches , my wolf snarled.

No . . . no . . .

Terror shredded my insides as I looked around for anything that could save me.

My stomach dropped as my eyes clashed with Brielle’s, Blythe’s, and Isolde’s.

They were here . . .

The same force was dragging them to the clearing.

Their expressions mirrored my fear and determination.

The Omegas of Hidden Creek were trapped and helpless.

This was intentional. This was an attack. Not just against me but against the pack.

We yelled and screamed as dark magic pulled us toward the wild forest.

My heart sank. Our defeat was inevitable.

And then Silas and Gentry burst through the trees, their presence a beacon of hope in the twilight.

“Myla!” Gentry shouted.

“Please . . . I can’t stop . . . I can’t!” I cried out as he wrapped his hands around my bicep and tried to hold me back.

Silas ran forward, looking for whoever was casting the assault.

The magic in the air ensnared us, pulling us inexorably toward the border despite Gentry’s best efforts.

More Enforcers exploded through the trees, snarling. Half ran to the Omegas, and the rest poured into the forest.

“Don’t let the Omegas off our land,” Alpha Wynn ordered.

The men of Hidden Creek raced to keep us from their enemy, but no matter how hard they yanked, our feet wouldn’t stop.

The sound of flesh hitting stone filtered into the clearing from beyond the copse of trees. Guttural warning snarls clashed with high-pitched screeches. Shifters positioned themselves around the Omegas, working to keep them as far away from the battle as possible. Gentry dug his heels into the dirt to try and slow the progression, but his attempts were useless against the dark magic.

“Fuck!” he shouted.

A wave of heat swept over us, so intense that sweat beaded along Gentry’s brow and upper lip. His hands slipped on my skin, and he scrambled to maintain his hold. A flash of light threatened to blind us, and wolves flew through the air, skidding across the forest floor and crashing into trees. Particles became visible pinpoints of energy, vibrating like a rattlesnake’s tail.

We were all in grave danger, and I prayed someone would come to our aid before it was too late.