21. Elara

Elara stares at the replica of the historical sword she thought was a fairytale until very recently. Disbelief washes over her as she reaches out to touch it. The hilt is soft gold, the blade a blazing silver. She's immediately captivated by the intricate carvings that adorn its grip. Amongst the fascinating scrollwork, she notices delicate etchings of wolves, their forms intertwined with the symbols of valor and strength.

The wolves, rendered with astonishing detail, seem to leap and prowl across the hilt, their eyes fierce and determined. Each stroke of the artist"s chisel brings forth the wild spirit of these creatures, their presence imbuing the sword with a primal energy that resonates with Elara"s own.

As Elara runs her fingers along the hilt, she can feel the raised contours of the carvings, as if the spirits of the animals themselves have been woven into the very fabric of Excalibur. It's a testament to the harmony between humanity and the natural world, a reminder that even in the midst of conflict, there is beauty and strength to be found in the bond between man and beast.

Which is exactly what Merlin was trying to capture when he first created werewolves to protect this powerful sword.

Elara draws her hand back, reminding herself this is a replica. The real Excalibur is still missing out in the world somewhere.

Movement beside her has Elara looking up into Denzel's somber face. "Are you sure you can handle this?" he asks, his voice low although Kade and Jordyn would undoubtedly be able to hear it.

Hear Denzel question whether she's ready for this.

Elara stares straight back. "To save Laith? Yes."

As before, the words portray confidence that doesn't exist. She's the apprentice in a world that's existed for centuries without her knowledge. She has powers she doesn't know how to use. Powers that brand her as different and dangerous.

She's far from ready.

"I'll bring the Excalibur replica to the shifters," Kade says, stepping between them protectively.

Denzel shakes his head. "You'll stay back and keep yourself hidden until you"re needed," he snaps, looking at Kade with disdain. Elara knows he's only working with him because it's necessary. Shadowgrace want nothing to do with him.

Kade draws in a sharp breath. "You seriously expect me to stand back and watch her do this?"

Denzel grabs Kade by the shirt, balling the material up in his fist. "The shifters hate you. They"re not going to negotiate with you. Your presence will lead to violence, and then what would happen to Laith?" He pushes his face close. "Laith is Shadowgrace, I'll make sure he comes back alive. Can you say the same?"

Denzel lets go, and Elara's eyes dart between the two men. Denzel towers over Kade, but she knows Kade has a lot of power that he"s honed boiling beneath the surface. An evenly matched battle within their ranks would be terrifying.

"You have no idea what you're dealing with," Kade growls. Yet he steps back, tugging his shirt back into place.

Elara lets out a slow breath, relieved blood wasn't shed.

There's likely to be enough of that coming.

Denzel also takes a step back, filling his chest as he glares at Kade. Slowly, he turns his blazing eyes to Elara. "I'll send a message to the shifters. We'll meet them as they've demanded."

Elara nods, suppressing the urge to swallow down the hard ball of nervousness that just lodged in her throat.

She's about to face her destiny, ready or not.

Dawn spreadstentative fingers of light over the clearing the shifters selected as the meeting point. Turns out, they're impatient to get their hands on the legendary sword. Denzel and Kade were happy to agree, and as terrified as Elara is, she concurs.

Laith's life is on the line.

Elara walks with Denzel on one side, Dinah on the other, Excalibur heavy and shaky in her hands. Or, the sword that looks like Excalibur. It looks so real, she has to keep reminding herself it"s not. It"s just a spell; it"s just a spell. A damned good copy. Hopefully, the shifters will be just as fooled as she is.

She can practically feel Kade's gaze on her, although he's yards back with the remainder of the Shadowgrace pack. It was clear how hard it was for him to let her go. That it went against every fiber of his being to not be by her side.

Elara knew because she could feel it, too. The primal pull. The sense of wrongness of the growing distance.

She wants him here.

Even as she's glad he's not. She's beginning to suspect Kade's determination to protect her has no bounds. No limits on what he'll do. Either to others, or ultimately, himself.

Elara hates the idea of either of those possibilities.

"Everything will be fine," she mutters to herself over and over. She"s sandwiched by an alpha and a witch. On top of that, she has powers of her own. Surely that evens out the odds…

Chad comes into view at the other end of the clearing, tall and pale. Just like the first time she saw the shifter, Elara notices a strange pulsing power emanating from him. One that feels entirely unnatural.

"I see you're making the smart choice," he says, his voice dripping with dark amusement. His eyes hungrily roam over the sword and Elara's pulse hitches. If he realizes it's a replica…

The sun crests over the horizon, a beam of light catching on the sword's silver blade, making it shine. Making it look even more majestic. And hopefully more real.

Chad's smile grows, causing Elara's heartbeat to surge harder and faster. He's fallen for the ruse.

Which means the exchange is about to happen.

The rest of the world will be waking up along with the sun. Hopefully, they'll be waking up to safety and not more horrible news about the death of someone else or more animal attacks.

Another woman appears beside Chad, and Elara stifles a gasp. Although the resemblance to Chad is uncanny, there in the death-colored hair and lifeless skin, she's dragging a stumbling Laith. Although there aren't any obvious injuries, his wrists are chained and he's lost weight in the short period since he was taken.

The tightness of his jaw and the brightness of his eyes lets Elara know that at least he"s still himself, looking stronger for this ordeal. Good. If they get him out of those chains, he may need to fight too.

"I'd like you to meet my sister," Chad purrs. "Ebony."

"She's a witch," Dinah hisses.

Elara takes a deep breath, needing to focus on why they're here. "Let Laith go. I brought Excalibur." She moves a few feet away from her protective sentinels, toward Chad and Ebony in an act of good faith. Or at least what appears to be an act of good faith.

Chad seems surprised, taken aback for a moment.

"You"re delivering it? I thought you'd use the powerful one." He points directly at Dinah, and Elara doesn"t know whether to be discouraged that he doesn"t find her a threat, or glad that this could work to her advantage. "Dinah. Samara's daughter. A witch who's done terrible things," Chad says, looking straight at Elara as if teasing her.

A shiver slithers down her spine. They know so little about Dinah, having little choice but to trust her. It's thanks to the witch that Elara's carrying a fake Excalibur so this handover can happen.

"She hasn"t told you, has she?" Chad rubs his chin as his sister grins. "How convenient."

"It's not relevant to this exchange," Dinah snaps.

"I heard you almost killed a nephilim. Instead, you kept him alive, paralyzed from the waist down. According to your reputation, you always did favor torture. It did take away his magic, a very good thing, though." Chad laughs. "So what happened to the woman who prized pain over death?"

He's trying to divide them. Possibly trying to remind Dinah of the power that can be found in evil. Elara glances back at Dinah, conscious it may work. The unknown just multiplied.

Dinah stares back at Elara, holding her gaze steady. "I did a lot of things under my mother"s influence. We were working for the same organization, and I even killed for them. I was an emotionless assassin. I'm not that person anymore."

Chad sighs. "Oh, well." He lifts his arms just as more sunlight rolls through the clearing. "Good thing I brought company, isn't it?"

The shadows around the trees behind him morph and change. Men and women appear, some shifting from shapes that are too small to decipher, probably insects. Others drop from the branches. A few rise from the leaf litter, their skin dirty and eyes flashing.

Shifters. A whole army of them.

"So did she."

Kade's voice carries through the clearing with confidence and authority. And threat.

Elara hears the wolves walk up. She feels Kade's nearness.

She's relieved and terrified all at once.

Chad laughs as his gaze roams over the growing numbers. "Excellent," he hisses. Lightning fast, he draws a knife and holds it against Laith's throat. "Give us Excalibur in return for Laith living and us walking out free and unharmed from the forest. It"s that simple."

Elara stills. The tension is multiplying in the clearing, pressing down on her chest. Tangling in her throat.

Was she naive to think there was a way for Laith to come out of this alive?

"You don't have a choice," Chad emphasizes, pressing the knife against Laith's throat until a rich bead of blood appears.

Elara looks into Chad's eyes and knows he wants to do this. He wants to kill Laith. Before any of the pack can make a move, Laith will be dead and all of this will have been for nothing.

Denzel takes a few steps forward, readying himself to fight. Dinah copies on her left side, her demon daggers out and glowing.

Elara sees the next moments as if in slow motion, knowing Chad sees their movements as a threat.

He smirks. Draws back the dagger, twists it, and aims the point at Laith's throat.

Then strikes, his aim precise, his movements sure. There's no way Elara or anyone else can get there in time.

Laith won't even get a chance to scream. He's just drawn his last breath.

Chad cries out and drops the blade. It hits the grassy ground, red hot and blazing as if it was just pulled out of a forge. He roars with fury, looking around, and Elara's gaze follows his.

Their eyes land on the source at the same time.

On a tree branch, perched to the left, is Kira, a ball of fire controlled within her palm.