Page 84 of Witch's Wolf

“You people are unbelievable,” I say, shaking my head. “Sam wanted me to give her a decent burial. You just survived what Ican only assume was the toughest fight of your life, and you’re asking if I’m okay?”

“She was your mother, Erica.” Helena’s words are gentle, but they still land like a weight on my chest. “You were part of her.”

“I was. Once,” I admit. “Right up until the moment she faked her death. That’s what you and Sam don’t understand. I buried my mother twenty-two years ago. The woman who tried to carve you to pieces wasn’t my mother. She was pure evil.”

“What’s all that noise? What’s happening outside?” Helena asks, shifting and craning her neck to peer past me.

“Monica told everyone you’re going to be alright. They loved the news. You’re their hero.”

“I happened to be the only one around here who could fight Roberta,” she says, her voice rough but certain. “Only a witch can fight a witch. It would’ve been unfair to ask you to do it. I couldn’t overlook the bond between you and her… not to mention that your powers haven’t peaked yet.”

“Badass and modest,” I tease, laughing. “That’s a rare combination.”

Her lips twitch into a small, knowing smile.

“It’s not modesty. It was never about that. It’s realism. Those shifters could bring this cabin down with their fists, but against Roberta? They wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

“Get some rest, Ms. Badass,” I murmur, giving her wrist a light pat. “God knows you’ve earned it.”

I lean in and press a soft kiss to her forehead. When I pull back, we share a quiet moment. One full of understanding and ofgratitude. If I admired her before, I practically worship her now. From day one, Helena has been there for me, offering help that she never owed me. And after what she did tonight? She has my trust, my loyalty, and my absolute respect.

Maybe she was the only one who could face Roberta, but that’s not what matters. What matters is that she did. She stepped up when no one else could.

She may not want the title, but in the eyes of everyone here, she is the hero of the valley.

47

SAM

“You could’ve waited until tomorrow.”

Raul’s complaint isn’t unfair. It’s late. We’re both exhausted. More than that, the sounds of the cheers still carry, reaching us even at Brad’s mansion.

“Maybe,” I shrug, setting Roberta’s legs down on a thick bale of hay. “But I wanted to get this over with. I don’t want her body polluting the air we breathe.”

Raul bends down, his broad frame blocking my view.

“What’s that?” He reaches toward the ground, then straightens, holding up a small piece of paper. A smear of blood stains the top left corner. “It fell out of her pocket.”

I take it from him, unfolding it carefully. The handwriting is sharp, deliberate. My stomach tightens as I read:

Ballard’s clan is a bunch of unreliable morons. He can’t keep them in check. The only good thing her dog hasdone is smell that bloodthirsty son of a bitch and take care of him.

Dexter’s shifters are wild, also. When he told them they’d be taking over Dawson without shedding a drop of blood, they acted like a group of chimpanzees. I thought I was deep in the jungle.

They both bought my promise to hand over Dawson once I’m done with Sam Crawford. I’d love to see their faces when they run into each other in that accursed little town. They’ll realize the scam, but by then, it’ll be too late. They’ll have served my purpose. They can go ahead and rip each other apart for all I care.

A slow, burning rage unfurls in my chest.

“She was playing them all,” I murmur, gripping the paper tighter. “Setting them up to slaughter each other.”

“Seems like her kind of play,” Raul says.

I don’t respond. I can’t. Because beneath the fury and the satisfaction of knowing she failed, there’s something else. A bitter aftertaste. A reminder that this was her mother. And she didn’t give a damn about anything but herself.

Not even Erica.

“She was smart,” Raul says, watching the flames. “That plan of hers was pretty elaborate.”

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