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Chapter 115
publish date:
2026-06-30 21:00:51Nina POV
“Who the hell told you that you could touch my son?” I snap, my hand slamming onto the handle of the stroller before Khadija can even blink.
The kitchen feels like a tomb, heavy with the stench of grief and freezer burn. Adriel is still staring at the white plastic door where Betty’s body should be, completely catatonic. But Khadija? The witch is smirking, her fingers hovering an inch above baby Toby’s blanket.
“Rela
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Betty POV"Look at the screen, Betty."Jethro shoved the cold glass of the phone against my palm. My fingers clamped around the edges. The screen glowed, illuminating a photograph that made the blood in my veins turn to slush."They look strange," I whispered. My voice sounded flat, bouncing off the stone walls of the pack house. "Jethro, why do they look like that?"Adriel did not answer with words. His massive arms came around me from behind, pulling me backward into his chest with a sudden, crushing force that knocked the air from my lungs. His heartbeat was a frantic, erratic thud against my spine."I found them exactly like this," Jethro said. He stepped back, his eyes darting to the floorboards. "I promised I would never keep secrets from you. Not after everything.""They are just sleeping," I said to the empty air.I fired a mental spike through the pack link, aiming for my mother. Nothing. The bond was a hollo
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Jethro’s POV"Get the children inside now before I lose my mind!" I shouted, the steering wheel groaning under my grip as the car tyres skidded onto the gravel.Nina did not move. She sat stiff in the passenger seat, her knuckles white around baby Toby. The child did not cry. He just stared at the dashboard with huge, empty eyes."Jethro, look at them," Nina whispered. Her voice cracked, dry and small. "They do not even know what a house looks like."In the back seat, six pairs of eyes stared out of the windows. Six children. We found them hiding under the floorboards of a ruined cabin. The Blue Claw pack house was gone. There was nothing left but black ash, the smell of burnt hair, and the sticky scent of old blood. All the adults were dead."They know what a car is," I grunted, shifting the gear stick into park. "That is enough for today.""They have the same scent," Nina said, her eyes shifting to the bu
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David POV"Move your hands away from the door handle," I say, my voice tight and rough.I do not look at the lycan in the driver's seat. I keep my eyes fixed on the cracked dashboard of the black estate car. The engine idles with a low, heavy rumble that vibrates through the soles of my shoes. My fingers press hard into my knees."The arena is clear," the lycan says. His voice is too deep. It sounds like grinding stones. "You do not dictate where I step, boy.""I do out here," I say. I turn my head just enough to catch the sharp glint of his jawline. "You smell like the monsters that broke my house. If the survivors smell you first, they will run deeper into the dark. They will never come out."The lycan tightens his grip on the steering wheel. The leather groans under his palms.In the back seat, Nina shifts. She holds the strange baby close to her chest. The baby does not cry. It just stares at the back of the lycan’s head with wide,
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Adriel POVThe pressure changes instantly.The sound of Ian’s voice, the smell of the infirmary, the burning in my chest - all of it disappears.I am standing up. But my boots aren't hitting stone. They are sunk into thick, heavy mud.I try to take a breath, but my lungs fill with heavy, cold liquid. Water. I look up. Light filters down from a shifting, translucent ceiling thirty feet above my head. I am standing at the bottom of a lake.I push my hand forward. The water moves against my skin like heavy silk, but my ribs don't ache. My chest doesn't leak blood."Hello, Adriel."The voice is high. A sharp, melodic giggle that echoes directly inside my ear canal.I turn my head, my eyes straining against the green tint of the water. There is nothing but empty depth. "Who is that? Show yourself."My voice comes out perfectly clear. The words don't bubble. They don't drift."Technically, you are
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Betty POVThe silver screen of Laura’s laptop snaps shut. The last image of Adriel vanishes into black glass.I drop my hands to my sides. My breath leaves me in a slow, ragged exhale. The air in the room feels thick, heavy with the phantom scent of woodsmoke and pine.The fight is over. We survived.My boots click against the floorboards as I drag myself toward the low wooden bench by the window. Every muscle in my thighs aches. My lungs burn with a lingering, phantom smoke. I sink onto the cushions, letting my head fall back against the glass."Betty."Mitchell steps into the frame of the doorway. His shadow stretches long and dark across the floor. He does not cross the threshold. He stands there, his knuckles white against the doorframe, his dark eyes locked on my face."I am fine, Mitchell," I say. My voice sounds hollow, even to my own ears. "Just tired.""You are vibrating," he says. His voice is a
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Adriel POV"Shut the laptop, Adriel," my father says.His fork clatters against his porcelain plate. The sound rings through the dining hall, sharp and heavy. Across the long oak table, Leonardo’ father stops chewing. Both of them are watching me.I do not shut the screen. I stare at Betty’s face through the video link. Her skin looks gray. There are dark violet shadows bruised under her eyes, deep and heavy from her fight with that werewolf girl. My knuckles turn white against the plastic edge of my keyboard."I am fine," Betty says. Her voice cracks through the speakers, tiny and distant. "I just need sleep.""Mitchell did not tell me about the arena," I say. My voice stays flat, but my chest burns. "Adam did not tell you about the shifting ban. And you kissed Robert."Betty flinches on the screen. Her eyes dart sideways. "Adriel, it was - ""A mistake," I finish for her. "Clearly.""There is a ce
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Betty’s POV"Get on your knees, wolfless freak, or I will break your legs myself."Madeline’s voice sliced through the damp, heavy air of the Blue Claw storage pavilion. She was balanced on the balls of her patent-leather heels, her pink lips curved into a cruel, perfect line. In her manicured hand
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