Martyr

Lya

My mind was made up. I knew exactly what my role in this fight would be.

If I had learned anything about my father, it was that he was a coward. He wouldn’t be out on the field participating. Maybe he was who I got my ability to run away from problems from. Even still, though, I was drawn outside.

The sight was horrifying, and the smell of war made me gag. Guns rang out, teeth clashed, screams and howls resounded. What my eyes honed in on, though, was none other than Will barreling into my mate. I was careening toward them faster than I could think. If anyone died here, it was supposed to be me.

“NO!” I screamed, but the sound was drowned out.

Oliver waited too long, giving Will the opportunity to aim his gun. I didn’t have time to shift, but I still had the axe. I flung it with every ounce of strength I had, burying the pick deep in his chest. I was certain the pick side of a fireman’s axe wouldn’t be enough to actually kill him, so I twisted it just for good measure. If