by M. L. Briers
‘We’re close, brother,’ Callum assured him, and they were. It would have been a lot faster if the witches were wolves, and yet he couldn’t regret that they weren’t because without the magic they possessed then none of this would have been possible.
The bears attacking would have been a bloodbath on both sides. Mari’s death would have been assured had Connor not been available. At least now they had options and chances that they never had before.
“Through those trees and run like hell, Mari needs you,” Callum growled out, pointing the way, and somehow, all three witches picked up the pace and gave it all that they had to reach the she-wolf’s cabin.
Callum was the last one through the busted up doorway. The scent of the she-wolf’s blood was so thick in the air that he could almost taste it. His eyes scanned the room, broken furniture littered the area and blood splatter covered everything.
His eyes snapped down to where Mari was cradled on Justice’s lap. Mari had somehow managed to shift into her beast and the wolf’s white fur was thick with her blood.
He could see the open wounds down to the bone in places, and his beast roared within him at the sight of one his own, so broken, so damaged, that he wanted the taste of Tyler’s bears blood on his tongue even though he knew that the man himself was an innocent in this Warlock’s game.
Callum cursed at the sight. His eyes locked with his brother’s and the pain was etched into the alpha’s face. Helplessness – he expected nothing less from Justice.
The witches were already at work. Their lips moved in silent incantations as Janette moved towards Mari, considering the history between the two women, Callum would have expected her to be a lot more careful as she approached the injured she-wolf.
“She doesn’t have the strength to attack,” Justice assured her, and Janette nodded, her lips never stopped moving as she and the others worked their magic.
‘What’s happening,’ Justice growled into the link.
His beast wanted to be out there fighting the bears, finding the Warlock, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave Mari. He’d never leave an injured female behind, not when she needed his strength to hold on.
‘The bears are fighting, and I’m tracking Connor – the vampire seems to have picked up on something and is moving fast towards the falls.’ Rowan informed him.
“Do we have a general direction for the warlock yet?” Callum asked, but Morgan just shook her head.
One spell at a time – if they wanted the she-wolf saved then they would have to find Victor on their own or wait until the she-wolf was in a more stable condition.
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Tyler’s beast might have been up for the fight, but the man himself had lost heart in surviving this encounter. It was in his nature to fight to the death, but not when he couldn’t get the sight of Mari and what he’d done to her out of his mind.
He’d lost the will to live. He was no good to anyone the way that his beast was, and if he couldn’t trust himself to never hurt those around him then why would he even want to draw another breath?
His dream of a mate and cub’s was gone. The whole reason that he had left his clan, a more peaceful, stable life with which to bring a mate into, should he be lucky enough to find one, was now in tatters.
It wasn’t his clan that now stood in his way of the life that he wanted. It was his beast and its feral nature.
He’d lost the gentleness that he’d been trying to cultivate, that he’d need to be around cubs, and he’d lost it in epic fashion with his attack on the she-wolf. Now he had nothing left to fight for.
Tyler’s beast roared with indignation as the man took control one last time. Forcing the bear to drop his guard, seeing the swing of Cole’s bear’s big arm coming towards his throat, and he lifted his head, exposing his neck to the slice of Cole’s claws…
Pain tore through him the instant that Cole’s razor sharp claws pierced his skin. He welcomed it. He welcomed the death that was sure to follow…
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CHAPTER NINE
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Connor just had a damned feeling and he followed it. Without the witches help to guide them they had been pretty much in the dark as to where the warlock could be on pack land.
Connor knew from years of experience that the warlock would need to be close to enact the spell that would alter the bear clan into mindless beasts, and to be able to keep that spell active when they were on pack land. That meant the man was either mobile, which would make no sense, because he would be exposing himself to encountering the pack, or he was somewhere where he could reach out between the two territories…
That place would have to be hidden, and Connor knew that if it was him, then he’d be at the waterfalls, hidden behind the water, and channelling the mystic energy of the water through his magic, and that elemental energy that Mother Nature provided was in abundance there.
It was a risk, but one that he considered worth taking until the witches could come up with something better or he was proved wrong.
Connor came at the falls from behind. Scaling the rocky outcrop with fast, sure movements. His fingers finding purchase on the rocks as he went – pulling himself up the gradient that would have daunted a human man with relative ease.
He’d heard Rowan’s beast snort its contempt for the climb. A wolf would never make the steep climb, but a quick look back over his shoulder told him that Rowan wasn’t about to give up. The man had shifted back into his human form and was climbing just as assuredly as Connor himself.
“Mari’s dying,” Rowan whispered into the night, knowing that Connor could hear him well enough, even over the rush of the waterfall on the other side of the rocks. “The witches are using magic to keep her alive, but she needs your blood.”
“Busy, busy, but if I don’t die I’ll get right onto it,” Connor whispered back.
Connor felt torn. While saving Mari’s life would normally have been a priority for him, now wasn’t the time to let sentiment get in the way of killing someone who was wreaking havoc on the whole of the pack, and the local bear clan.
One life lost to save many was a good trade off in his mind, even if he did hate to admit it. He just damn well hoped that he was right about the warlock being at the falls, otherwise, if Mari died, then it would be in vain.
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Callum heard his brother low, deep growl and wondered at it. It sounded as if the beast inside of him didn’t know whether to be pissed or mournful at the turn of events that had unfolded so suddenly that it had taken the whole pack by surprise.
He could almost sense Justice drawing on his own strength to try to will Mari to stay alive as the witches worked to stabilise her. He knew that given the choice Justice would much rather be the one lying there dying than for a female in his pack to be going through the pain… any male would, but for the alpha it must have been especially tormenting.
Callum could see that the witches were tiring. He didn’t know how much personal or spiritual energy that it took to cast spells, but they’d been keeping at it for a while now.
He did know that magic wasn’t an infinite thing that they possessed, and that they needed to draw on the natural world around them to enact a longer spell, but he had no idea what that entailed.
“Use me, draw on my nature,” Justice said, and for a long moment Callum was surprised and confused by his brother’s words.
Janette’s eyes flicked towards Justice and she slowly shook her head.
“I’m your alpha, you’ve pledged allegiance to me, to this pack,” Justice growled out, not taking no for an answer. “Do it.” He demanded.
The grunt of pain that got lodge in the alpha’s throat signified that his demands had been satisfied. Callum didn’t really understand it, but he wasn’t about to let the alpha do this alone if he could share the burden.
“And me,” Callum moved closer to the group, but as the wave of pain hit him hard, his k
nees buckled and brought him down to the floor.
He could feel a strong pull on his body and mind – as if someone was slowly siphoning his strength, the ability that his body had to heal itself – the very essence of who he was.
Now he got it. Now he understood, the witches were channelling the Lycan ability to heal and the strong life force within them, and they were giving it Mari.
He hoped that it would be enough.
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Connor rounded the waterfall and spotted the figure – like a dark shadow in the unlit cave – and he wasn’t about to wait for an invite to the party. He knew two things – if this wasn’t the guy that they were looking for then he’d feel guilty in the morning for killing him, and he needed to take this guy down quickly and as fast as possible without getting a dose of the warlock’s magic.
The first one was relatively easy. He moved fast, faster than the warlock had time to comprehend, but as he realised that someone else was in the cave with him and spun to face the intruder – the second one didn’t go so well as the warlock unleashed his magic upon Connor, slamming him back into the cave wall with a blast to the chest, and ringing some bells within his mind that hadn’t been rung for a long time.
Rowan didn’t wait to see if Connor had survived the fiery orb that had hit him square in the chest. There was no time to do anything other than to act on pure instinct, and this was a matter of life and death for other members of his pack.
He ran full force at the warlock, the hard impact jarring his body and taking his feet from under him as he realised, too late, that they were both heading over the side of the falls together.
Rowan didn’t let go. He knew one thing and that was that he wanted to kill this man more than he wanted to live himself. The lives of every member of his pack could rest on what happened right here and right now.
He felt the impact with the water below the falls and it knocked the air out of his lungs. He only hoped the same was true for the warlock.
His claws tore into the human’s flesh, locked on, and buried deeply against the bone. Now if the man wanted to get away then he’d have to rip his own body apart while doing it.
Rowan felt the pain rip through him. It felt as if his body was being burned alive, from the inside out. If he’d had any breath left inside of his lungs then he would have screamed it out with the agony of the magic that was ripping through him.
His lungs were screaming for air. His body felt as if it was being cremated in kerosene, and his mind was getting fogy from the pain and the lack of oxygen…
Then he felt the hard slap of a hand on his wrist as something snagged his arm, tore his hands away from the warlock, and he was spinning free and clear in the water, trying to reach back for the human…
Connor pushed Rowan away from the warlock and himself, and he reached out into the darkness of the water for the human. He needed to finish this, and fast.
He kicked out with his legs and circled the area, his hands searching for that which he couldn’t see. A heartbeat later, and he connected with something – an ankle, clothing – he knew that Rowan had been naked and that this must have been his prey.
He grabbed a tight hold and pushed downwards towards the current that flowed beneath the falls, yanking the human with him as he went. The hard sting of magic, weaker now but still potent, zipped through his body, and he yanked downwards, pulling his assailant down further under the water with him…
His eyes locked onto the man’s face. The warlock’s eyes were wide as he fought to get away, fought for the breath that he needed inside of his lungs…
Connor didn’t give him the chance to get it. He swiped his claws against the warlock’s throat, feeling the razor sharp tips scrap against the bone of the man’s spine, and felt that magic slip away from him.
Even in the water; he could scent the man’s blood. Fae blood, as it swirled around, caught in the whirlpool that dragged it downwards beneath the falls towards the deep cavern beneath the rocks.
Connor kicked out at the man’s body and saw him swept away. Fighting the strength of the water that threatened to take him too, he kicked upwards, colliding with Rowan’s body and yanking him up with him as he went…
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Connor had half dragged – half pushed Rowan out onto the bank of the waterfalls. The Lycan was coughing and spluttering against his water filled lungs the vampire pushed up to his feet and left the man to recover in the dirt.
He didn’t have time to play nursemaid. They Lycan’s blood would heal him quickly, and he needed to get back to Mari – if she was still alive then she’d need his blood, and he didn’t have time to stop and ask questions.
Connor jumped at the first tree and swung his body upwards. Taking the trees would be a faster route for him over the land. He guessed that the warlock’s spell had been broken for the bears the moment that he’d died, and yet, he didn’t have time to judge the lay of the land and what was happening beneath him as he leapt from limb to limb.
Connor hadn’t meant to stop for anything, but the scent of Tyler’s blood was thick within the air, even from that far up he could scent it, and he swung downwards, his feet hitting the ground a few feet away from the bear, unable to pass by the big man without knowing.
He cursed at the sight of the big bear, bloodied and torn, lying on his side as he bled out over the ragged grass. Cursing again, he dropped to his knees beside the animal.
“No, you don’t get to die like this,” Connor ground out as he lifted his hand and bit down into his own flesh, opening a wound that spilled his blood before he even got it near to the bear’s mouth.
Connor’s eyes met the jet black of the bear’s and he heard the gargled, rumblings of protest from the beast. He got it – if he’d attacked one of the pack he wouldn’t want to live either.
“It was magic, not your fault,” Connor bit out and hoped that Tyler could hear and understand him.
Either way, he wasn’t taking no for an answer. The bear’s mouth already hung open and he wasn’t too gentle about gripping the beast’s fur within his fist and yanking his head back so that he could pour his blood directly down the back of the beast’s throat.
A rumbled sound went through the bear’s chest. He guessed it was anger, but hoped that Tyler would be alive and well in a few short hours and able to tell him what it was to his face.
“I’d love to stay and chat, but Mari needs me,” Connor pushed up to his feet and took off on fast heels, leaving Tyler to recover alone.
That was his only regret.
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“A vampire’s work is never done,” Connor bit out as he swept into Mari’s cabin and headed right for her. His eyes locked with the alpha’s as the man growled low and deeply within his chest.
“We good?” He asked. He knew that Mari wasn’t Justice’s mate, and yet the alpha seemed to be overly protective of her.
“It’s good, do it.” Justice growled out.
The alpha sounded tired, as if he’d been running all day and night and was too damn exhausted to give a damn anymore, but his eyes said differently as they practically begged for Connor’s help.
The vampire dropped onto his knees upon the floor and reopened the wound in his hand that had, unhelpfully, already healed since he’d feed the bear his blood. The alpha growled once more…
Connor could see the wounds that covered Mari’s wolf’s body. In truth, the she-wolf should probably already have been dead, and he surmised that she had the witches to thank for still being alive long enough to receive his blood.
Connor was more than grateful for their assistance. It meant that he wouldn’t have to beat himself up about the choices that he had made this night.
No matter what he’d told himself in the heat of the action, in the heart of the moment – if Mari had died then he wouldn’t have been so clinical about those decisions.
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CHAPTER TEN
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“You look tired,” Morgan’s eyebrows knitted together as she watched Callum moving about behind the counter as he retrieved a couple of beers for them. She was slumped back against the sofa, physically drained in herself after using too much magic in one day.
“I guess this is what old feels like,” Callum growled, but even that was a little too much effort for him.
He’d never really been sick a day in his life. He wasn’t immune to illness – he could catch a damn cold like everyone else, it was just that his blood healed him faster than a human’s would. Having a cold or flu for a few hours couldn’t compare to what he was feeling now. Every limb, every muscle ached, and instead of giving in to it, he was trying to fight it.
“Welcome to how human’s feel,” Morgan gave him a small grin, anything wider was an effort too far.
“I don’t like it,” Callum slumped down on the sofa next to her and somewhat half-heartedly handed her the beer, more rested his hand on one thick, muscled thigh and rolled it towards her.
Morgan reached out and took it him from him with much the same amount of effort. Then she groaned in the back of her throat as she lifted an arm that felt like lead and raised the bottle to her lips, drinking fast and thirstily while she still had the energy to do it.
Callum shot her a sideways look. Snorting a chuckle as her hand flopped back down and she sighed.
“That’s better,” she said.
“Really?” Callum regarded the beer in his hand and made a concerted effort to do what his mate had just done.
“No,” she admitted, and she would have shrugged if she’d had the energy to do it. “But, it’s beer so who cares.”
