81. Chapter 81

Chapter 81

L ayla clutched her heart and fell to her knees.

Hope started to cry behind her, as if her poor child could sense her pain, too. Faith tried to soothe her, but there was too much fear in the air, too much pain.

"Jackson is hurt," she whispered, looking at her mother.

She had held out long enough. The house was full of all the vulnerable people in the pack, and their fear and anxiety weighed down on her. She couldn't wait any longer.

Rebecca walked over to Faith and took Hope from her. And her little girl instantly quietened in her grandmother's arms. Rebecca met her gaze and nodded.

"I will look after Hope. And I will protect everyone in this house," Rebecca said, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

Her mother knew what she had to do. She couldn't leave Jackson to fight alone, but if anything happened to one of them, it would happen to the other.

"Can I trust you, Mum?" she whispered.

She hadn't called her mum since the day she had abandoned them.

"Always," Rebecca whispered back.

Her mother's eyes glowed, and Faith's anxiety decreased. It decreased in the whole house. She understood now why Jackson said she was different. She was yet to understand the extent of what she would be able to do once she shifted. And to understand that she did need her mother around.

The pain came again, and this time she fell to her knees.

"People are dying."

"Go," Rebecca urged. "Remember who you are. You are my daughter. I love you, Layla."

She rose and pulled her mother and Hope into a hug. Just in case it was the last time. She kissed her baby's cheeks and then pulled Faith into a hug. And then she stepped back from them and wiped the tears from her face.

She didn't know how, but she knew the pain she felt was from the other pack members. They were fighting in every direction, all around the boundary, and they were losing.

She rushed out of the bedroom and through everyone standing and whispering in groups in the hallways. They filled all the rooms, and she knew they had also filled the packhouse hall where she'd had her first dinner. They were not just the elderly and the children who couldn't shift. She saw Max's mum holding onto both her children. Marjorie had chosen not to fight this time, and she could respect that decision.

Once she was outside, the air cut into her as if it were a living entity. Everything about it felt wrong, and it crashed against the house, almost as if it was trying to get in. She heard whispers everywhere. She turned, looking in every direction, but nothing had come this far yet.

Another slice of pain, and this one was continuous.

The gravel dug into her knees when she dropped to it. Was that really what that meant? Was her pack dying?

She gritted her teeth against the pain and forced herself to her feet. Her first stop, like the last time, was the gatehouse. She chose the knives again because she had grown accustomed to them, then pressed the button to open and automatically close the gate. She waited outside until the gates slid back into place, focussing on her bond with Jackson. He was easier to find.

A growl sounded in the air as she started to run towards the main gates. She stopped and held her knives in front of her, looking around for the source. Her skin prickled, even though she knew the enemy had not reached that far yet. A wolf emerged from one of the streets, its hackles raised and teeth showing as it turned to her. It felt familiar. Was it part of her pack?

But as it got closer, she saw that the eyes were different. They were lifeless, like all the wolves she had fought before when they'd been attacked. She knew the witch had got to them somehow.

Those whispers blew in the wind again, and the wolf's ears pricked as if it was listening. And then it started to run. She sucked in a breath and tightened her hold on the knives, but the wolf ran past her. It ran straight into the packhouse gates. And then again. It continually rammed into the gates with its side even though they were not budging. But another wolf joined it, and then another.

The gate started to shake.

She almost went back to fight the wolves but remembered her mother and her strength as she had soothed everyone in the house. Rebecca had sworn to protect them; she had to trust her.

She continued running to the gate but kept to the trees. Like the day she had led the Hunters from her pack, the shadows started to shift for her, and she hid within them. She realised none of the wolves she ran past even registered that she was there. By the time she saw Jackson's wolf fighting near the front gate, she had successfully kept herself hidden from everyone.

There were so many bodies on the ground, both wolves and men. Her heart squeezed, and tears started to fall down her face again. They were losing people once again.

Another slice of pain brought her to her feet. She lost her focus as she doubled over. A roar of laughter filled the air, out of place in all the mayhem. When she followed the sound, she saw the woman sitting on a smooth rock near the gate with her legs crossed as if watching a show. And the darkness radiating from her was unlike anything she had ever felt.

This was the woman who was stronger than Diedre. This was the woman who'd caused all the pain the pack had experienced.

"Looks like we have company," the witch said, turning her head to look right at her.

She was no longer hidden.

Cain's wolf growled and threw off the two wolves that had bitten him before he turned to start running to her. But another wolf caught him in the side, and then another. She sensed Jackson was holding back even though they were not, and she knew why. The wolves were familiar, too. The witch was making him kill his own people.

Her anger rose, bolstering her as she ran towards the witch, her knives ready. But something hit her with so much force from the back that she flew across the rest of the distance and crashed into the rock the witch was sitting on head first.

The pain felt like she had split her head in two. Blood streamed down her face, obscuring her vision as she looked back. The man who'd punched her was huge, his face was mangled. He was the scariest man she had ever seen, and she sensed that even before the witch had got him, he had been a vile bastard.

Someone gripped her hair and pulled her up, and she was shocked to see Alpha Chase.

"Don't kill her yet; just hurt her. I want Jackson to suffer."

Chase looked into her eyes, and something flashed in them before they returned to being lifeless. Had he recognised her?

"What are you waiting for?" the witch snarled. "Hit her. Break some bones."

But Chase didn't move.

The witch stood and faced them. She was so young, not much older than she was by the looks of it. How did anyone like that live with themselves after doing something so heinous?

The witch pulled her arm back and punched her in the face, adding to the pain still slicing through her head. Chase dropped her, and she fell in a heap at the witch's feet.

"I'll do it myself then, shall I?"

With her ears ringing and her heart pounding, she looked up at the young woman as she picked up the knives that had fallen from her hands. They had no blood on them because she hadn't been able to kill any of her people.

The witch pulled her hair and plunged one of her knives into her side. She screamed in pain, so much pain she almost passed out. And when she stopped, she heard Jackson's pained howl. She heard his desperate attempt to reach her.

And she heard the witch's cackling as she looked back at him.

All of it sparked something inside her, and the same rage she'd felt with the Circle flooded her body. Something snapped. She felt it as her eyes started to glow and her pain faded.

It unfurled inside her, pushing as if it was ready to be released. It felt stronger than the rage. Stronger than all the fear she sensed from Jackson. It was pure darkness, unbending, unforgiving.

"We should get his baby to join the party," the witch said.

Her breath hitched.

Her eyes closed, and the thing inside her pushed through until it was all that was left of her.

Bones cracked. Her skin stretched and tore. Her limbs twisted in unnatural positions, taking her breath as a different pain filled her body.

And when she opened her eyes, the darkness was all she was.

The witch turned around after instructing the scary man to collect Hope, and the laughter died on her lips.

There were no thoughts in her head as she launched forward, bit down on the witch's arm, and pulled. The screams soothed her. They fed her and made her crave more. And so she took more. She felt nothing but that satisfaction as she tore into the witch until nothing was left.

Nothing.

And only when her cravings were satisfied, when there were no more screams and nothing left to sink her teeth into, did she raise her head.

The dark clouds were dissipating, and the sun started to shine through. The ground before her was littered with bodies and soaked with blood.

Jackson's wolf stood in front of her, bloody and his flesh mangled. But alive. And behind him, all around her, men and wolves stood in the same battered condition.

Cain lifted his head and howled. The other wolves joined in.

She turned, trying to process what was happening as she looked around them. All the thoughts in her head were drifting off with the wind; she could not grasp them. Confusion rose within her. Something was wrong, and yet everything was as it should be.

She tripped over herself as she tried to run, and when she looked down, she saw a huge red paw matching all the blood she had shed. What was happening?

Their howls continued and called to something deep within her, and they settled her troubled mind. A sound came from her throat, unbidden, and it joined the symphony of howls.

When they stopped, there were more wolves around them. More people in their human forms. And children. And the scary man who had punched her from behind.

And they all lowered and bowed.

Jackson shifted and fell to his knees, naked and clutching his arm.

"My Queen," he whispered. "My beautiful, red Queen."