CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE || REED
Pain. That was all there was. Pain and darkness and the Algea’s claws cutting into me again and again, agonizingly slow and deliberate, a cruel artist crafting a gruesome masterpiece.
I couldn’t move. The paralysis had me locked down completely, turning my body into a prison I couldn’t escape from. I could feel everything, though. Every slice of its claws, every drop of blood sliding down my skin. But I couldn’t so much as twitch a finger to stop it.
And worse than the physical pain was what it was doing to my mind.
The Algea was reaching into my memories and pulling out the worst moments of my life, forcing me to relive them over and over while it crooned in my head with an eerie voice like a knife scraping against bone.
Look, it whispered. See what you are. See what you’ve always been.
Ian, Jeremy’s former mate. One of my best friends, who I’d grown up with. His face materialized in my mind’s eye without warning.
And then the memory slammed into me like a physical blow. I was there again, in the woods, only two years ago, though it seemed like a lifetime had passed since then. Jeremy had directed us to search for a monster that had crawled out of the bleeds.
It had gotten Ian alone.
And Jeremy and I were the ones who discovered his body, at the edge of Lake Elizabeth, miles away from the commune.
Ian had been one of my oldest friends.
And he had died alone, at the hands of a monster.
It was your fault, the Algea whispered. You were too slow. Too weak to save him. You let him die. Just like you let everyone die for you.
“No,” I tried to say, but my lips wouldn’t move. The word stayed trapped in my throat.
The memory shifted, twisted into something much worse, hitting me in bursts.
Jeremy.
The scraping of talons on rock. A guttural snarl as the nightmare monstrosity burst through an opening in the ground before us.
A looming giant of a creature made of vines and bone crawling up from the earth, the smell of rot and decay clinging to it. Black viscous fluid that burned the ground.
Knowing it was what killed Ian. Feeling absolute conviction that we’d destroy it before it could destroy us. A rightness. This was what I did. It was my calling.
Then more of them emerging from the earth. Too many. The howling of other wolves in the pack in other parts of the forest, signaling trouble. The awful, sinking realization we weren’t going to be enough.
Then Thierry moving impossibly fast, a blur of destruction and violence.
Jeremy and I fanning out and attacking our respective monsters in unison.
A chaotic blur of snarling, tearing, and slashing. Dodging claws that glistened black and viscous in the moonlight.
Triumph as I launched myself onto the monster’s back. Biting down hard enough to crack a spine that was more wood than bone. Knowing my strong jaws would tear it apart.
We would win, after all.
And then, in my peripheral vision, Jeremy going down. The monster rearing back with claws, preparing to strike.
Panic tearing through me. Leaping down to the ground. Putting my back to my monster, ignoring every instinct screaming against it. My paws digging into the earth.
Disbelief. Split-second hesitation. Jeremy can’t die. It’s not possible.
Movement coiling in my muscles anyway, preparing to launch me forward.
The sick feeling of claws wrenching me off my feet. Being airborne and weightless, unable to stop it. A tree trunk rushing toward me.
Visceral panic ripping through me. Not strong enough. Not fast enough. Too weak. Too—
Impact. Darkness.
Then pain. Awareness. Crawling across the forest floor. My body repairing tissue and bone, shooting agony through me.
Knowing I was already too late.
Jeremy unmoving on the forest floor. His body slack. So much blood on his chest. His skin going ashen. His eyes sightless and staring.
Thierry begging my friend to come back.
Power flowing through my veins. Delicious wildfire and bliss. Awful and sick. Pleasure when it wasn’t asked for and wasn’t wanted.
Then a terrible understanding, a whimper of pure anguish escaping me. The alpha power was claiming me. A sick wash of revolting ecstasy spreading through my body and I couldn’t stop it.
No, no, no, please! I don’t want this—
Then, an instant later, the crystal-clear understanding that my best friend—my brother—was dead. Because his power—a power I didn’t deserve—was flowing from him and into me. That only happened when the old alpha was challenged and lost. Or when the old alpha died.
Your fault, your fault, your fault, the Algea sang. You failed him. You failed them all. You’re not strong enough to protect anyone. You never have been.
The memories kept coming, relentless. Every failure. Every loss. Every moment when I hadn’t been fast enough, strong enough, good enough.
And then the worst one.
Harris.
Standing in the bar, looking at me with those dark eyes full of hope and love, telling me he wanted to stay.
And me, telling him no. Driving him away. The look on his face when his heart broke.
The door slamming shut behind him.
Then the emptiness after. The realization of what I had just done.
You did that, the Algea crooned, delighted. You destroyed the only good thing you’ve ever had. You broke his heart and sent him away. And now you’ll never see him again. You’ll die here, alone, exactly as you deserve.
The monster was right, wasn’t it?
I’d sent Harris away. I’d been so afraid of losing him that I’d pushed him out of my life with both hands.
And now I was going to die here, and he’d never know I’d been wrong, that I’d wanted to take it all back and fix it.
He would never know I loved him with everything I had inside me.
He would never know that sending him away had been the biggest mistake of my life.
No.
Harris was pure and good. He was brave. He was loyal to a fault. He believed in me.
I could fight this. I had to.
I turned away from the despair the monster was trying to trap me in. Instead, I focused on him.
Harris’s playful smile when he’d told me the cozy mystery was good—I should stop being such a snob about it.
I’d just been pretending, anyhow. I was in love with the book. Cozy mysteries about witches solving crimes was my new favorite genre.
Or the way he’d kissed me in that alley, fierce and demanding and perfect. My mate was brave and tender, all at the same time.
The warmth of his body pressed against mine when we’d slept together, his breathing slow and steady in the darkness.
The look in his eyes, full of conviction, when he’d said he wanted to stay. The way he’d pressed his hand to my back and let his touch soothe me after our useless search for Sally.
Harris was solid and real. Loyal and true. Brave and tender. Perfect.
I’d been loved by someone extraordinary. Someone fearless and unfailingly kind, who noticed when I wasn’t okay and who cared about me, without condition. He had loved me—Reed, the man. Not Reed the alpha.
Even if I died here, I’d been loved. And I’d loved him back. I had tried, anyway. Before I let the stranglehold of my own fears control my actions.
And most of all: Harris would’ve fought. He would’ve expected me to fight, too. For as long as I possibly could.
Rage and denial built up in me like a physical force—my mate’s face seared into my mind—and I mentally shoved the creature away.
Whatever it was doing to me—the mind-fuckery it was trying to pull—I refused to let it.
No, the Algea hissed, its voice turning sharp. He never loved you! No one has ever loved you! You’re not good for anything! Not as a partner. Not as a friend. Not as an alpha.
The words burrowed into me like hooks, pulling at every insecurity I’d ever had.
What if it was right?
What if Harris had just been caught up in the mate bond, in the magic, and didn’t actually care about me at all?
What if I really was as worthless as I’d always feared?
Very good, the Algea crooned, its voice sliding through my mind like oil. All you have to do is let me in. Stop fighting. It will be so much easier if you let go.
Its claws pressed against my chest, right over my heart. One push and it would be over.
Harris and I on the couch. Harris promising me we were in this together. The way he’d looked the very first time I’d ever seen him—handsome in his tux and unsure, putting on a brave face. A single mundane man surrounded by a sea of supernatural creatures.
The way I had felt the mate bond snap into place. And then I had known he was mine.
I shouldn’t have been afraid of that.
It was a gift. I had known—and loved—a man like Harris. And he hadn’t just made me a better man, either. He’d made me a better alpha. He believed in me.
Refusal rose in me again. Stronger this time. The Algea couldn’t have me. I wouldn’t allow it.
“No,” I managed to force out, the word barely a whisper. My vocal cords were still partially paralyzed, but I made them work anyway. “You’ll have to kill me first.”
The Algea laughed, an awful and inhuman sound. Oh, I will. Very soon. But not yet.
Its claws dug into my flesh again.
Fresh agony tore through me, white-hot and consuming. I felt my skin split. Blood welled up and spilled down my ribs, but I couldn’t lift a finger to stop it.
And then—
Gunfire.
Four shots in rapid succession, shattering the oppressive quiet of the Otherworld.
The Algea shrieked and lurched away from me, orange embers blooming across its chest where the bullets had struck. It spun toward the source of the attack, snarling.
And I saw him.
Harris.
He stood at the edge of the clearing, his gun still raised, his face set in grim determination. He was covered in sweat, his clothes torn, and his eyes were too bright. They gleamed, reflecting the moonlight like an animal’s.
How was he here? How—
The Algea darted toward him, impossibly fast.
“Harris!” I tried to yell, but it came out as barely more than a croak.
Harris spun away from it, faster than any human should be able to move, and raised his free hand—
No. Impossible.