I lean against a tree, watching Kane laugh as he folds his hand around a metal mug, and sips on the hot coffee. He looks happy and relaxed, and I feel a tug of envy. The witches don’t have the same friendship and camaraderie as the wolves. There’s no warmth, no love. We are suspicious of each other, treating our coven members with cold indifference.
When Kane said march, he really meant march. The wolves shifted outside the palace and ran in the direction of the forests, towards the human town. Splitting off into squads so they could cover more ground. Each squad took a handful of witches with them, following the wolves in SUVs.
Tonight, we’ll sleep under the stars. There are no tents, no sleeping bags, nothing, just the basic supplies of food, water, and clothes for the wolves.
Kane and I agreed to keep up the charade for now. It’s been difficult enough for the wolves to accept the coven’s presence -- they’re not yet ready to hear their new queen is a witch-
Kane's POV: Willow leads us down the embankment, towards the enemy. She appears fearless, walking with her back straight and head held high, but I can sense her inner turmoil. She’s scared. More than she was when her father breathed down her neck. “Stop,” she whispers. “Look.” She waves her hand in the air, opening a little window in the magical shield hiding Vickus’s wolves from us. The air is suddenly thick with the smell of smoke and roasting meat. I can hear the laughter of his wolves, see them bustling around their campfires. All of it neatly contained within the boundaries of the spell. I stare at the force before us. Wolves as far as the eye can see. There’s no way Richard doesn’t know they’re on his territory, and his pack is huge. If he joined them along the way, Vickus’s ranks swelled by roughly two-thousand. We can’t possibly fight them. Willow waves her hand again, closing the window. “Wow,” Jackson offers. “Powerful magic.” “Well, there’s a thousand or so witches. If
Kane's POV: The night passes slowly and uncomfortably. The bark scratches my skin to pieces, and the knots in the tree dig into my flesh. A few hours ago, the last of my warriors snuck into the witches’ forest, climbing into the trees. We are spread out throughout the forest. They’re not getting in or out of here without a fight. The witches will alert us the moment Vickus arrives, which makes me uncomfortable. I trust Alfred, which is very strange for me, since I don’t usually trust people that lie to me, and I trust Willow, but not the rest. Two trusted witches are enough though. Agatha also returned with her witches. None of them looked too good. A little green around the gills, but they took up their positions as ordered by Lady Blaire. Having the forest witches with us is a good thing – they know these woods better than anyone. Around dawn, a little bird stars singing. A bird that’s not native to our woods. I mind link wi
I don’t want Kane to see me die, that’s why I sent him away. I wish so much that he could stay so I wouldn’t have to die alone – but it should be over quickly. I already decided that I‘d kill myself before I’ll let them torture me. The chances that I’ll survive the attack are basically zero. Nicholas didn’t want me to do it at all and tried to talk Lady Blaire out of it, but she wouldn’t budge and reminded me that I belong to her now. She pulled me aside after Kane and I came back, Nicholas tagging along when he saw us walking away from the group. “When the werewolves enter the forest, their witches will stay behind,” Blaire said. “I don’t think so,” Nicholas offered. “Vickus will want them close to protect him.” “No. They’re refusing. They know the wolves are here, and they’re scared.” “Do they know we’re here?” I asked. “Oddly enough, no. They think the magic they’re picking up on comes from the forest witches.” Lady Blaire laughed humourlessly. “Like these…peasants have anythi
I wish I can establish a telepathic link with my brother, but I can’t while I’m in wolf form. Something is really off with these witches. They’re oblivious to our presence, and even if they can’t see us, they should be able to sense us. I can feel their magic. It bristles in the air like an approaching thunderstorm. It’s something dark and terrifying. “Can you feel that?” Nicholas asks. “What is it?” How the hell does he expect me to answer him? I just nod and look at the other witches. Waiting for them to say something. Waiting for someone to give me permission to start killing. It’s much more difficult than I anticipated. I thought killing the Moon Flower witches would be easy. That I wanted to do it. Wanted to get the witch that ripped my aunt from my life, but now I’m just standing here, looking at them. I can’t bring myself to do it. “Willow,” Nicholas says. “Are we doing this?” “What spell are they casting?” one of the witches as
Kane's POV I don’t have much time to take in Willow’s carnage. She decimated at least five of her over sixty kills. Tearing the hapless witches limb from limb, leaving nothing but little bits of macerated flesh and bone behind. A few have their hearts missing -- an irresistible treat for every werewolf, especially a brand-new one that’s taken by bloodlust. The best I could do for Willow was to put her to sleep using our mate bond. Something Glenn told me he did for Charmaine from time to time when she couldn’t cope in the beginning. Hopefully, Willow would sleep for a few days. It can take a while to come down from the high, and the cravings for more blood can last several weeks. I watch as Alfred wraps Willow in a blanket and loads her onto the truck. I have to stand back and let her brother take care of her because if I do it I won’t be able to leave her and I have to go back to my warriors. Alfred comes sauntering back to my side. “The others will take care of her. I’d rather st
Kane's POV: I stand in the clearing outside the forest, trying my best not to inhale the stench of death. I’m surrounded by Willow’s kills. I still can’t believe one wolf could cause so much carnage. I doubt I’d even be able to kill sixty before a spell took me out…but she was shielded by Alfred and his coven’s magic so that undoubtedly saved her. Jackson comes sauntering out of the forest, carrying a pair of shorts with him. “Here you go, King.” Grateful, I take the clothes and cover myself. Nudity is common during a battle because we switch between wolf and human all the time, but now that I’m standing here doing nothing I feel a little exposed. “Thank you.” Jackson whistles softly as his eyes travel over the scattered remains of the Moon Flower witches. “Willow did all this by herself?” “Yes.” “I didn’t think she had it in her.” “Neither did I to be honest. Do you think Vickus will come?” “I hope so,
Kane’s POV: There is a lull after a battle. Everything goes quiet. It’s when this quiet descends that you are forced to face yourself and what you had to do to keep yourself and your people alive. You have to deal with conflicting emotions – elation because you won, coupled with intense sorrow over the ones you’ve lost, the many losses that are to come, and guilt because you survived. We lost our fair share of warriors. Some I trained with as pup, others were nameless, faceless wolves I’ve never met before, but loved regardless because they were mine. Most werewolves retreat for a while, spending time with their wolves and mates, finding solace in each other’s arms. If their mates died during the battle, they usually follow soon afterward, and the Omegas often find their lifeless bodies in their beds. They just lie down and never wake up again. I don’t have much time to lick my wounds. I hide my own sorrow because I have to. Someone needs to go on, needs to be strong for the rest.
For the first time in many years, I don’t dream. I don’t know if it’s just because of the thing Kane did to me, or because I could take some of my rage out on the witches, but I have never slept this well. Yawning, I sit upright and switch on the light. There are no windows in this room, and I have no idea if it’s day or night. It reminds me of the dungeon and makes me uneasy. Kane was here. I can smell him everywhere, but most strongly on my pillow. He must have been uncomfortable, curled up on this tiny bed with me. I stick my face into the pillow and inhale deeply, losing myself in his scent. It calms me down, takes away my disquiet. Gods, I miss him. My door eases open, and I automatically tense, even though I know who’s on the other side. I can smell him. My senses are definitely improving. “You’re awake,” Nicholas says and gives me a shy smile that seems out of place. “How long have I been asleep?” “Not that long. Maybe twelve hours.”