Page 80 of Witch's Wolf

“Helena—”

“Say no more,” she says, lifting a hand and pressing her fingers lightly to my lips, stopping me cold. “I stand by my decision. You will stay out of it. Do I have your word?”

Stubborn woman. Stubborn as hell. She wants to take on the most dangerous creature I’ve ever seen, and nothing I say will change her mind. I want to argue, to shake some sense into her,but deep down, I know that she’s right. We all saw what Roberta did to my packmates and to us. We don’t stand a chance against her. But I don’t think we have any other choice, and it is hers after all. Jaw tight, I give a sharp nod.

“Thank you,” she murmurs. “You should know, Roberta came to me this morning. She set the terms. Tomorrow, midnight. I chose the fallen Alpha’s mansion as our battleground.” She meets my gaze, unflinching. “Remember, Samuel. When the time is right, do what you have to do. End her.”

I stare into her eyes. Erica puts her hand on the small of my back, silently supportive. I dart my eyes to Raul. He doesn’t like this anymore than I do, but he’s also the Alpha. It’s his duty to protect the pack first.

“Helena,” I growl. “Nothing will stop me from ending this bitch.”

44

SAM

Daybreak reveals a town suffocating under the weight of unspoken fear.

Word of Helena’s decision has spread, thickening the air with tension. Most people have abandoned work for the day. The streets are nearly empty. The few who remain aren’t talking, aren’t driving, aren’t pretending life is normal. They’re packing. Loading belongings into the backs of their cars and trucks, preparing to leave Dawson behind.

At home, the silence is every bit as heavy. Shadows stretch across the floor, swallowing the faces of my pack. No one speaks. No one moves. Their gazes drift through the void, lost somewhere I can’t reach. Mine isn’t any different. I stare at the kitchen faucet, my mind slipping into the past.

Helena.

Memories of her flash through my head, one after another, relentless. The first time we met, standing on that hill, staff in her hand. She knocked out the strongest wolf in our pack and his two brothers with nothing but raw power and a will that refusedto break. Then there was the battle against the vampire clan in winter. I saw her torch two bloodsuckers like it was nothing. Maybe more. I never counted. I should have seen this coming.

Helena van Zant, the witch who has fought beside us, protected us, bled for us, of course she would step forward now. Of course she would decide to stand alone. Her indomitable spirit was never in question. The only fool here is me, for thinking she’d let anyone else carry this burden. I don’t need to read my siblings’ minds to know what they’re feeling. It’s the same thing dragging at my bones, hollowing me out from the inside. Uselessness.

The fight is set for midnight. It looms, carrying the weight of our future. A battle that will decide everything. The battle for the fate of Dawson, of our home, of our people and we won’t be the ones fighting it. At least not at first.

For the first time in our history, two humans will determine whether we hold our ground or abandon it forever. There’s a slim chance we’ll have a role in finishing this, but the fight itself? That belongs to Helena. I wonder if Raul ever imagined something like this when he first met Monica. I know I sure as hell never saw this coming when I fell for Erica.

Fifteen minutes before the hour, my family and I move as one. Slipping from our home in wolf form. Even our beasts, usually loud and restless, move silently. We cross the forest border in disciplined formation, paws whispering against the earth. The rest of the pack joins us, emerging through the undergrowth, their bodies sleek and coiled with tension. Tails flick low, ears pin back, hackles bristle in anticipation.

Locksmith’s beast lingers at the rear, a lean, gray figure, his presence thinner than the rest. He has more reason than anyone to want Roberta dead, but Raul won’t risk him. We can’t affordhis death, not with the embers of civil war still smoldering. If he falls, his sympathizers will demand blood.

Through the last tangle of trees, two figures come into view. Helena and Erica stand side by side, nearly the same height, their faces set in stone. Helena twists her staff, her grip firm, her resolve unshaken. She meets the pack’s eyes, then nods.

“Thank you,” she says, in a calm, even voice. “All of you. Now, let’s end this.”

She moves forward, and Raul quickens his pace. I follow, catching the looming shape of Brad’s old mansion out of the corner of my eye. Two stories of cold, empty space. Big enough to house ten people yet haunted by the presence of none. The road levels out as we approach the house.

“I’m going to say this one last time.” Helena says. The hem of her cloak brushes against my neck as she strides past. “Do not intervene.”

The toll of St. Matthew’s church bell shatters the silence. Dozens of ears tick forward, bodies tense, ready. Erica stands at my side. The smell of her fear and tension riles my wolf. She curls her hand in the fur at the base of my neck. I move closer, trying to be reassuring.

Helena moves up the cement path, eyes sweeping the darkened landscape. Then there is a light. A sickly purple glow that floods the concrete, casting jagged shadows. Roberta hovers inches above the ground, her violet cloak rippling unnaturally, arms outstretched.

“Tonight will be the last moonrise you’ll ever see,” she says, her voice dripping with venom.

The air thrums as she thrusts a hand forward. A pulse of raw energy rips toward Helena, distorting the space between them. Helena doesn’t flinch. She plants her staff into the earth and grips it with both hands.

A red force field blooms around her just before the energy wave slams into it. The purple energy crackles over the barrier sounding like a thousand snapping twigs.

“Big words,” she taunts, voice calm, unshaken. “You should learn when to shut up.”

Roberta snarls, disgust twisting her sharp features.

“A staff? Only weaklings like you need one.”

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