Chapter 37: Briar

brIAR

Isquint my eyes as we step out into the early afternoon sunshine. Someone needs to give the sun a chill pill because it's way too bright.

After the Wyldharts laughed in my face at my assertion that I'd go to Hawthorne Grove alone, we carefully packed up everything that was in the safe-deposit box. Along with the two letters, Mama left a set of keys and the deed to the old house for me. I'm guessing the keys go to our house. I'll have to check it out when we go to Hawthorne Grove over winter break.

Malachi puts his hand on my back and leads me down the front steps toward the car. Xander walks on my other side with Bastian next to him.

"So, what do you want to do when we get back home?" Bastian asks with a suggestive grin. I roll my eyes at him, hiding my smile. Bastian always tries to cheer me up when I'm down, which I appreciate more than I could ever tell him.

Opening my mouth to respond, I snap it closed when an unnatural chill rolls over me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up as we approach the car. We pass through what feels like dense, sticky air. Once we're through the weird atmosphere, I see five men standing rigid in front of the car. They each hold an assault rifle aimed right at our chests.

That isn't the weirdest part.

All five men are wearing what looks like… tactical Roman legionary armor. They have a contoured breastplate, wrist guards, a skirt thing, and shin guards. Instead of being metal, all their armor is made of black Kevlar-like material.

They're also wearing black Corinthian helmets, complete with a gold plume. On their breastplates, they have a gold laurel wreath framing the letters L and A etched on the top right chest piece.

I'm not sure whether to be intimidated or amused.

One thing is clear, the armed dudes aren't here for a civil discussion.

Oh, for fuck's sake. Could the universe not have waited a bit longer to send crazed cosplayers after me?

Bastian snorts. I give him a questioning look. "You said that out loud, pretty girl," Bastian informs me with a grin. My cheeks heat in embarrassment. Oh well. Even without insulting the Gladiator extras, I doubt they'd like me very much.

"Hand over the girl, and we'll make your deaths quick, mutts," the man in the center says, punctuating his statement by pulling back the charging handle on his gun. Pretty sure he should have done that before we walked up, but I'll give him an A+ for dramatic effect.

As the Wyldharts exchange glances over the top of my head, I feel my panic rising. I can keep my cool when it's only my life on the line. When people I care about are in trouble, though, I have a hard time keeping the fear at bay.

I'd give myself up to these Spartacus wannabes in an instant if I thought it would keep the Wyldharts safe. If they wanted me to come peacefully, they shouldn't have led with the promise of a swift death for my mates.

"Whatever you're planning, I wouldn't if I were you," the middle guy pipes up again, voice tinged with amusement. "We have silver bullets in these guns. You mongrels aren't as good at keeping your weaknesses secret as you think you are. Legio Aeneae knows that a silver bullet to the heart kills wolves."

Shit. That's aggressively not good. It would've been nice if someone told me silver kills us. That way, I don't accidentally poison myself with the wrong jewelry choice.

"What do the Knights of Aeneas want with her?" Malachi rumbles, deep voice booming across the empty parking lot. I stiffen at his question. Malachi better not consider sacrificing himself to keep me safe. I'll bring him back from the dead only to murder him myself if he does.

The center guy's lips curve up in a cruel smirk. "That's not your concern, cur."

"If you're going to kill us anyway, what's the harm in telling us?" Malachi tries again.

Center goon sighs, like having to deal with us is such a chore. "If you must know, wolf, we need to capture her to keep her from undoing centuries of hard work."

"What are you talking about?" Malachi asks, anger bleeding into his voice. His fists clench by his sides, and he looks like he's barely holding himself back from attacking.

"Nothing that matters to you, mongrel," the man in the center gloats. "Enough stalling. Hand her over. Now."

Malachi clenches his jaw hard in response, a vein throbbing at his temple. He trades a look I can't decipher with Xander. Xander then looks down at me with sadness and regret shining in his forest green eyes. He gazes at me for a long moment before turning forward and blanking his face.

No one says anything for a second. The charged silence hangs heavily between us and the Roman military rejects. I swallow as I try not to fidget because of the five men staring at me maliciously.

Without warning, the Wyldharts surge toward the men facing us. A shout gets trapped in my throat as I watch them fly through the air toward the Knights of Aeneas. My heart feels like it's about to beat out of my chest with how scared I am for the Wyldharts.

Their clothes shred as they quickly transform into breathtaking massive wolves. Malachi's wolf is jet-black and slightly bigger than his brothers'. Xander's and Bastian's wolves are golden blond and roughly the same size.

Unlike Patrick's shift, the Wyldharts' shift is fluid and almost instantaneous. It's really cool to watch and doesn't give me the ick that Patrick's did.

Malachi sails through the air first, crashing into the two on the left. He knocks them off their feet. Their guns clatter to the ground when they fall with a loud thud. With a snarl, Malachi rips out the throat of the first one and starts in on the second one.

Xander lands on the middle goon next. They grapple, a flurry of arms, legs, and teeth, before Xander pins the man down with one gigantic furry paw on his chest. He growls in the guy's face before tearing out his throat in a spray of blood and gore.

Bastian takes on the biggest goon, who only staggers when the huge wolf slams into him. While Bastian's able to knock the rifle away, he struggles to get the big man on the ground. He dances around the guy, darting in to tear chunks out of the goon to gradually wear him out.

Bastian's opponent grows increasingly unsteady on his feet from Bastian's attacks. He looks like he's going to fall over when his friend, the only one not facing off with a wolf, raises his rifle. Everything seems to happen in slow motion as the guy aims at Bastian and moves his finger to the trigger.

I don't have time to warn Bastian. Xander sees the man taking aim at his twin and leaps at him to keep him from shooting Bastian. This puts Xander right in the path of the rifle as the man fires. A silver bullet tears through Xander's chest as he sacrifices everything to save his brother.

"Xander!" I scream, a raw sound full of pain and anguish. My legs threaten to give out beneath me as I process what just happened.

I thought finding my mom dead was the worst moment of my life.

I was wrong.

Watching a silver bullet tear through the heart of a man I've come to care so much about is an infinitely more soul-shredding moment. It's especially crushing knowing he got himself killed because of me. If it weren't for me, Xander wouldn't have been here.

While Xander can be a raging asshole, he's also one of the pieces of my soul. I need his calm steadiness, sarcastic quips, and messy kisses as much as I need air to breathe. Without him, my heart is just a jumble of bloody pieces, none of them knowing how to ever beat again.

I can't help the sob that escapes as I watch Xander's lifeless body land heavily on the goon he tried to take out. It would be so easy to let the pain pounding over me like a torrential downpour consume me. But I need to make sure Xander's sacrifice isn't for nothing by ensuring his brothers are safe. Closing my eyes, I pray for something to help me assist Malachi and Bastian.

As usual, my prayers aren't answered. Instead, everything goes dark as I free-fall, the ground giving out beneath me. My stomach dips like I'm on a roller coaster. I feel weightless, as if I'm tumbling into a black hole.

As I'm falling, a voice I've only heard once before whispers in my mind, "Open your eyes, child."