A Wolf's Journey (Wolf Mountain Peak Book 7)

by Sarah J. Stone

  “Open your eyes,” he spoke too fast, his masculine voice lowered to a strained whisper as Kate hurtled towards them. Helena’s eyelids flickered as beams of moonlight washed over her face. Dean thought his heart was going to rip right out of his chest as they opened up. He wished his mate had attempted this in broad daylight; that way, he would have been able to see the wonderful redness in the witch’s eyes, a shade he was already starting to miss.

  “Dean…?” whispered Helena as her face relaxed with the hint of a smile. “Dean?” She repeated his name in a voice just a notch higher. Her eyes gazed into his. “I can see you!” she declared, her tone wobbly as tears of bliss pooled in her eyes. Kate knelt down next to her mate. “I can see you, too, Kate!” Helena went on, her lips trembling while her friend put her arms around her. Cliff tightened his grip, holding her close as the witch was lost in a group hug. Dean breathed the longest sigh of relief of his whole life when she put her head on Kate’s shoulder. The pack’s previous display of emotion was tame compared to what followed their embrace. Their cheers literally rocked the Bradford’s yard as tear after blissful tear rolled down Helena’s cheeks. They were ecstatic, hugging one another, and laughing out loud when their Alpha sprinted towards the witch. And how could they not? Their beloved Helena, the legend that had saved their lives and their town alike, over and over again, was not suffering in the darkness anymore. She was back from the realm of misery, and into her own kingdom, a kingdom she and her family had created from nothing. Now, they could all gaze into the future, without fear; and with Helena, the Paxton pack was more than just muscle and teeth. They were a force to be reckoned with.

  Chapter Twenty

  The good news about Helena transformed the Bradford’s estate into one, huge, playground. For more than an hour, the pack celebrated with their Alpha and his siblings. Everybody congratulated Kate on her second accomplishment that night. For Dean, even though their loudness somewhat annoyed him, this was most welcome. They had spent a lot of time in uncertainty, praying for a clue about the foes they were up against. As a matter of fact, they were so desperate that they were just minutes away from venturing into New York City, ready to abduct any vampire caught off their guard. They were still searching for leads; but, now that they had Helena, they had many more options than chasing vampires in the Big Apple.

  NonethelessNevertheless, it was late. In spite of their high spirits, they were all too tired to stay there. Helena was glowing with happiness in Cliff’s arms; but, she was also exhausted. So, she excused herself, and went back to her cabin, promising beforehand to talk to the brothers in the morning. Understanding that he and his mate would soon be alone outside, Dean said goodnight to his family, and took Kate inside. His bed beckoned; he couldn’t wait to get a good night’s sleep. As he lay down, the thought that crossed his mind sent chills down his spine. His mate was rightfully proud of herself. He could still recall their passionate night together, when she was offered the contract; and, even though he would love to relive it, he was in no position to do so. Thankfully though, as she strolled into their bedroom, Kate gave him a quick kiss goodnight, and rolled over onto her chest. Staring at her peaceful face, he closed his eyes and recalled what she had done that night. His Siren had far exceeded his expectations. Swelling with pride, he descended into Morpheus’ arms, hoping to see another display of her power in the near future.

  Alas, this sweet descent did not last longer than a few minutes. A loud, explosive blast rattled the window in his bedroom, causing the floor to vibrate beneath him. His ears picked up the sound of glass shattering, and crunching into the ground, moments before yet another bang shook the entire estate to its core. Dean swiped the sheets away, noticing an orange flare outside of his window, cutting through the darkness of the night. His initial thought was to get over there and look outside. However, he quickly rejected that notion. One explosion could be an accident. Two meant that these were both deliberate acts. He jumped up from his bed just as Kate opened her blurry eyes. Sprinting across his bedroom, he turned left and flew down the stairs, wondering at the same time who could be causing all this mayhem. Before reaching the lower landing, he heard a sound that sent slivers of fear slicing through him; a sound that he had been dreading to hear during a particularly dangerous and precarious time: baby Helena crying. Along with it, he caught Monica’s frantic voice. He was still too drowsy to make out her exact words, but it was abundantly clear to him that she was drowning in panic.

  A scene of devastation greeted him when he stormed out of his cabin. His truck, as well as Raul’s, was engulfed in flames. Leonard Bethels, the man he had seen in Kate’s dressing room stood to his right, almost directly across from Raul’s home. His brother was already outside, staring down at the burning vehicles. Dwight Morton and Steve Hines, the two wolves burdened with guarding that side of Lockhart forest lay dead at the wizard’s feet. Blood was still dripping from the jaws of Dwight’s silver wolf, while Hines’s white beast had a deep cut across his throat. The blood had nearly covered his entire chest, sending Dean’s adrenaline into the ozone layer. A blinding, white glow rocketed across the yard as Bethels thrust his arm toward Ray’s truck. The heavy vehicle was tossed upward before its front end crashed into the ground. One more, powerful blast lit up the night as it swayed back and forth. The metal on the roof was bent, its windshield smashed into pieces, as the truck rolled over.

  “Evening, puppy,” Bethels smirked, waving his hand toward Raul. “I’d introduce myself, but I have a feeling you already know my name.”

  “Bethels; you son of a bitch!” snarled out the Alpha, in a voice more wolf than man as his chest heaved. “What have you done?”

  “Well, I retaliated,” the wizard shrugged, his hoarse voice filled with laziness. “You have killed five of Damian’s clan, in case you haven’t noticed. Keep your beasts inside, boys,” he added, turning his attention to Dean. “I have no wish for further destruction.”

  “Where is he?” Raul growled out as his eyes lit with rage. “Doesn’t he have the balls to stand in front of me?”

  “…said the Alpha who fights alongside a witch!” teased Bethels, his smile reappearing, testing Dean’s patience once again. “That ginger may be strong, but, if you want her to keep breathing, I suggest you keep her on a tight leash. Like I said, I don’t desire to kill anyone else,”

  “Then what do you want?” Dean barked out, the twitches of unease of his inner beast tempting him more and more by the second while he tossed a ferocious glare over at him.

  “Your mate,” snapped Bethels as his smile vanished. “Bring her to me tomorrow night, at midnight, bound and gagged, at the site where your precious little witch killed those vampires. If you fail to comply, I will unleash Damian’s clan on Shandaken. You wouldn’t like that, would you?”

  Dean parted his lips, ready to respond with yet another, furious comeback; but, before he could get a chance, a column of black smoke shot up from the ground in front of the wizard. Leonard Bethels disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving behind him the ruins of their trucks, their dead comrades, and Raul and Dean in absolute shock and awe. The Alpha didn’t seem to care at all about his vehicle. Instead, he focused his gaze on the two, lifeless bodies ahead of him. His heavy footfalls led him closer to them as the leaping flames reflected on his skin, casting their shadow on the concrete. The gas tank on Dean’s vehicle shot up into the air as the ground shook with another explosion. But, not even that was able to distract Raul. He bent his knees, reaching both of his arms down towards Hines’s white wolf. Feathering his fingers through his blood-soaked fur, he seated himself as Dean walked over towards him.

  “I’m sorry, boys,” he whispered in helplessness, squeezing his eyes shut as he leaned over him. “God, I’m so sorry…”

  A sea of sorrow swept Dean, and buried him in its waves as he closed in on his fallen comrades. They were never best friends, but they had fought together in the past. They had triumphed in the battlefield, and now, they had
laid their lives down in the line of duty. They had paid the ultimate price for their loyalty. Dean had yet to reach his brother, and he could already feel the sting of tears in his eyes. However, the loss had affected the emotional Alpha much more than him. Raul splayed his fingers over Hines’s neck, and pulled his head onto his lap as the flames revealed a tear, running down his cheek.

  “We’ll miss you, guys,” he snorted back a sob as the mix of burnt metal and rubber grew more pungent in Dean’s nostrils.

  “Raul…” he said on an exhale. “We’ll get them. If it is last thing I’ll ever do, I’ll kill them.”

  “So much death,” the Alpha sighed, caressing his comrade’s muzzle. “So much pain…”

  “I heard your daughter cry,” Dean remarked, putting his hand on his brother’s back. “Is she alright?”

  “The first blast broke our bedroom window,” Raul uttered, glancing up at him over his shoulder. “If her crib had been a bit closer, the glass would have killed her. She got spooked, but she’s okay.”

  “Thank God,” Dean sighed in relief. “What about tomorrow? We can’t just hand over Kate to him,”

  “We won’t,” Raul assured him, his voice losing volume as his gaze returned to Hines. “We’ll think about it tomorrow. Right now, we have two friends to say ‘goodbye’ to.”

  Understanding his brother’s point, Dean chose to keep his silence. Once again, they had been struck down by fate. This time though, they were grieving the deaths of two valiant warriors. He feared the moment when the pack found out, precisely because Morton and Hines were dear to them. They had not faced Damian’s clan in combat yet, and they had suffered casualties. The possibility of another rebellion was high, maybe higher than ever before. Unfortunately, neither Dean, nor his siblings could do anything about that.Chapter Twenty One

  Later that night, Dean notified Ray about the death of the two guards. Recalling what had transpired on the night of his younger brother’s death, Dean suggested they do the same for them. It would show their remaining comrades a message of unity, and it would show their respect to the families of the deceased. Raul accepted it right away, but, there was a problem: they couldn’t decide on where to go first, or where they should spend the night. There could be misunderstandings with the relatives, and difficult situations that they had to avoid at all costs. Happily though, the Morton’s took the initiative. Their idea was to move their loved one’s body over to the front yard of “Joe’s” diner. Hines’s family had no problem with it, thereby saving them the trouble of having to choose.

  The moment that Dean feared the most arrived, when the bodies were carried to their destination. In a stunning turn however, right after Raul’s explanation, there was no complaint whatsoever. Instead, they all focused on their grief as if they were unaware – or willfully ignoring – their comrades’ cause of death. One by one, the wolves of Paxton hugged one another, patted each other on the back, and wept over the loss of Morton and Hines. Unlike the time when the Bradford’s believed that Ray had been murdered, there was not much chattering. On the contrary, that warm, mid-May night was dominated by silence as well as gentle weeping. For Dean, their reaction was a blessed relief. Nevertheless, this was strangely familiar. It reminded him of the morning they thought they had found his brother dead in the forest. His fellow shifters were all around him, and he was once again staring at dead defenders of his birthplace. They might not have been his brothers by blood, yet, they were individuals that held the same equality to him: Hines and Morton were his brothers in arms. Brothers in arms: a powerful concept that remained so meaningful in every world, both human and shifter. A strong bond, forged among people who shared the hardships of war, enduring over time, even if the parties involved never saw each other again.

  The night crawled by, finding him at all times in the company of his siblings and his pack. Fond memories he had with the two wolves flashed through his mind, shattering his heart more than once. However, much to his discomfort, Raul seemed to be in worse psychological condition than he was. Of course, he wouldn’t show it, but Dean knew him too well. He could tell by his body language that he was on the verge of an emotional breakdown. The Alpha avoided even glancing at the bodies. Every few minutes, he would walk away from the gathering, looking up into the sky, like he was seeking comfort in the starlight. Upon coming back, he would hardly utter a word. Most of the time, Raul stared into the void, allowing a few tears to topple over the edges of his eyes. Well-aware of his brother’s burden and how emotional he could get, Dean made a choice as the blackness of the night faded into daylight. He was going to be the one to perform the ceremony in the morning.

  The sun’s first few sunbeams were in the horizon when Paxton’s residents arrived at “Joe’s” diner, all of them with bouquets of flowers in their grasp. However, this was rather natural. After all, this was a funeral. The real surprise to Dean was the fact that most eyes were wet, reddened, and puffy. Shifters, who barely knew either of the deceased, had been crying over their deaths. All of a sudden, this proof of love, this unexpected care, added to his pain, and also filled him with stress. Would he able to complete the service? He didn’t know. All the same, Dean had to remain calm. He had to try his best, in order to pay homage to his fallen comrades while still relieving his brother of this particular heavy burden. Sweeping the crowd before him, he stood before the two coffins as a gentle breeze blew through his hair.

  “People of Paxton,” he began, gazing out into the gathering, putting his hands on his waist. “Today marks one of the worst days in the history of our town. Two of our own were killed in the line of duty last night. Dwight Morton and Steve Hines are no longer with us. I didn’t know them that well, but…” he faltered, and pressed his lips together; “…I knew that they were there for all of us: fierce warriors; loyal comrades; ready to die for the cause of a better life, a life without fear. So when they had to face our common enemy, neither of them fled. They stood firmly, and fought bravely, even if that meant their own undoing.

  A couple of weeks ago, I paid a visit to my little sister. Melissa and I were talking in her living room, when I heard this…” he paused; “sweet sound, coming out of her bedroom. It was a guitar; an electric guitar to be exact. Now, I know how painful it can get for all of us, but, this was nothing like it. It was as if a lady was singing to me. I went upstairs, curious about the melody. I asked Joe what he was playing. He said the song was called ‘Brothers in Arms.’ When I read the lyrics, it just blew my mind. I thought it was written for us. I think a part of it is the best way to bid farewell to our own brothers.”

  Through these fields of destruction

  Baptisms of fire

  I've witnessed your suffering

  As the battle raged higher

  And though they did hurt me so bad

  In the fear and alarm

  You did not desert me

  My brothers in arms

  You will be missed, boys,” he sighed as he dropped his gaze down to Hines first, and then to Morton. “Martin: Jimmy: do the honors.”

  At that, the scouts struck one match each, and tossed them into the coffins. He raised his gaze as the sound of a hesitant applause tore through the silence. In the front row, Olivia Hunt had put her hands together. One by one, the bystanders followed her example as the coffins were engulfed in flames. Dean sensed a heavy arm, being wrapped around his shoulders as a warm round of applause filled the air. It was Raul. His reddened eyes were filled with more than just sorrow. Never before had he seen such sheer determination in them, such passionate drive to wreak havoc upon whoever was responsible for all this destruction. No words were coming out of his mouth; yet, his eyes were seeing right into his soul, urging him to do everything in his power to avenge Morton and Hines, to make sure that they had not died in vain. The stiffness in his face acted like a battle cry, a call to arms, raising every fine hair in his body. And Dean was going to answer that call, no matter the cost.

  Chapter Twenty Two

&
nbsp; There was just one word to describe Dean’s emotional state for the remainder of that day: agony; pure, unadulterated agony. The feeling stemmed not only from the tragedy that had befallen his pack, but also from the impending battle. This far exceeded their duty of protecting the neighboring city of Shandaken. This time, his mate, his beloved Siren was directly involved, just like when her own mother had razed their workshop to the ground. Kate’s life was at stake; and, much to his frustration, there was little he could do to protect her. Bethels had snuffed the life out of two of his kind, and he had withdrawn from that fight unscathed. Dean had no idea how, but, it was obvious that muscle and teeth were not enough to stop him. His only wish was that Helena had figured out a way to end him, and would announce it to them during the pack meeting, later that night.

  In spite of all the pain that had been gnawing away at him however, Dean was able to answer one, fundamental question as he recalled Helena’s words:

  “Leonard already knows how he dies. And something tells me that Kate has got a lot to do with it.”

  He might have rejected that notion as mere speculation, but as the hours went by, he agreed more and more with Helena’s prediction. Indeed, most of Bethels’ actions so far had concerned Kate. He had focused on her, and had only incapacitated Helena, when Saunders failed to kill Kate. The wizard had gone to great lengths in order to buy her off and ensure that she would stay out of this war. What were his motives? Why had he bothered with her so much, when it was obvious that he was powerful enough to take on the pack’s strongest wolves? Most importantly, he was within a few yards from her the night before, and, for some reason Dean could not fathom, he had not dared to make a move against her. Something had stayed Bethels’ hand, something that still eluded him.