60. Sam
Chapter sixty
Sam
Four in the morning, and Three Rivers smelled like war.
Coffee and sweat and the thick musk of wolves who’d already Shifted—dozens of them moving through the compound on four legs, fur bristling, breath fogging in the cold.
The tang of medical supplies from Thomas’s station.
Leather and engine grease from Ronnie’s crew, who’d rolled in with enough firepower to arm a small militia and the attitude to match.
Underneath it all, the ozone burn of Esme’s wards being tested, witch-light flaring green and gold across the territory like heat lightning.
But it was the scents I couldn’t name that sat heaviest. Adrenaline, metallic, and the sour edge of fear that people were trying to swallow.
And threaded through all of it, something fiercer.
Something that tasted like teeth and territory and the refusal to run.
Every one in the territory was throwing it off—Shifted or not—this low, rolling broadcast that said mine and ours and come and fucking try it.
My wolf drank it in.
Across the compound, Annabella was working with Esme near the ward line.
Hands moving, light flickering between her fingers as she reinforced an anchor point.
She’d braided her hair back. Tactical gear already on.
She looked and moved like a warrior. She was also the woman who, six hours ago, had begged, “Please, Sam” in a voice that had undone me so completely we’d put a crack in my bedroom wall.
The LEGO AT-AT on my desk had survived. Small mercies.
She must have felt me looking—the bond did that; telegraphed attention—because she glanced up.
Held my eyes across forty meters of chaos and preparation.
Everything was in that look: love, fear for each other in the coming battle, determination that we would make it through this and have a million more nights like last night. Then she turned back to the wards.
My wolf settled.
Gideon was crouched down next to a yellow birch tree, passing a blade back and forth over a whetstone.
“This is some suicide mission bullshit,” Gid muttered as I passed. “You know that, right?”
“Good morning to you, too.”
“I’m serious, Shaw. Kane’s got numbers. He’s got weapons.
He’s got that whole ‘righteous crusade’ energy that makes people fight harder than they should.
” He tested the blade against his thumb, drawing a thin line of blood that healed before the drop could fall.
"Meanwhile, we’ve got a half-rebuilt town, a plan that relies on everyone doing exactly the right thing at exactly the right time, and a witch-wolf hybrid who’s never fought at full power in a battle this size.
" He tested the blade against his thumb, drawing a thin line of blood that healed before the drop could fall. "On the other hand, she’s scarier than half the things Kane’s throwing at us. So there’s that."
“We have home ground,” I said. “We have people who actually give a damn about each other. And we have—”
“A plan. Yes, I’ve heard.” He sheathed the blade. “Plans are great until they’re not.” He looked up at me and grinned. “Good thing I’m spectacular at improvising.”
I shook my head. The bastard was actually looking forward to this.
Derek’s voice cut through the pre-dawn activity, calling everyone in.
We gathered around the tables that had been set up under the big oak, maps spread across the surface, positions marked in red and blue. My twin stood at the head of the table, shoulders squared, every line of his body locked into the soldier he’d been. Full tactical mode.
“Kane’s forces will hit at dawn,” he said. “Intel suggests main assault from the east, with feints from the west and north.”
He traced the lines on the map. Coldbrook River, the three bridges, and the approaches through the forest.
“Primary defensive line is the river. Ryan’s contingent holds the main stone bridge. Mason’s people cover the northern crossing; it’s rigged to collapse if they try to force it. Southern ford is our flanking option, but it’s harder to defend.”
“What about the wards?” someone asked.
“Esme, Annabella, and the witches who came to fight have the western sectors covered. They will also provide mobile magical support. The temple is where to go if we need to fall back.”
I found Annabella in the crowd without trying.
There. Safe. Ours, my wolf said.
Yes, I agreed.
“Questions?” Derek asked.
“Yeah.” Gideon again, because of course. “What’s the contingency if this all goes sideways?”
“Don’t let it go sideways.”
“Great. Really inspiring.”
Derek’s mouth twitched. Almost a smile. “We protect Three Rivers. We protect each other. We make Kane regret ever thinking he could take what’s ours.
” His eyes swept the assembled fighters—wolves, witches, humans.
Every category Kane wanted to keep separated, standing shoulder to shoulder. “That’s the contingency.”
Alpha power rolled off Ryan as he stepped forward through the crowd, settling over the gathered wolves like a hand on a shoulder.
I felt my own wolf respond, the Pack bond pulling tight with something that wasn’t confidence exactly; it was older than that.
Deeper. The bone-deep knowledge that the wolf beside you would die before they let you fall.
With the Pack bond already open, Ryan’s Alpha power humming through it—all I had to do was add my signal to his.
I let my pheromones shift. Dialed the frequency toward calm, toward steady, toward safe.
And instead of pushing it outward the way I usually did—hoping it reached whoever was close enough—I fed it into the Pack bond.
The effect was immediate.
Around us, nervous heartbeats slowed. Tense shoulders dropped. Even Gideon stopped being an asshole for about three seconds. It rippled out from us in a wave I could track by the way bodies changed.
Ryan looked at me again. Something shifted behind his eyes. Surprise, maybe, or recognition. We’d never done this before. Never known we could. But the bond held, steady and sure, carrying both messages at once.
“Handy trick,” he murmured.
“I have my moments.”
I found Annabella at the edge of the compound as everyone moved to their positions. She was heading northwest with Esme. I was heading east with Derek and Ryan.
“First major battle as official mates,” I said. “Should we coordinate outfits?”
“I was thinking if we survive, we should get matching body armor.” She adjusted a strap on her gear without looking up. “It’d be very romantic.”
“Deal. I’ll get yours engraved. Property of Sam Shaw. If found, do not approach. She bites.”
That got me a real smile. Brief, but real. Then it faded.
“Try not to die, Shaw.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Moonbeam.”
She flipped me off as she walked toward Esme. I grinned.
The march east was quick and quiet. Our contingent moved through the forest, some on two legs, some on four. Derek beside me, twin bond humming. Ryan at the front. Gideon somewhere behind us, still muttering.
Mason split off at the fork with his Bridgetown wolves, heading for the northern crossing. He caught my eye as he went—one nod, steady and sure. Mason never needed more than that.
We took position at Coldbrook River. The main stone bridge—old, solid, wide enough for four wolves to run abreast. The northern crossing was rigged to blow, the southern ford left open for flanking. It was good defensive ground; Derek had chosen well.
Cold seeped through my jacket. The mate bond stretched west toward Annabella, distant but present. I tucked it somewhere safe; couldn’t afford the distraction.
They came out of the trees in formation.
Kane’s forces. Dozens of them in the first wave, with more moving in the forest behind.
My mind kicked into gear automatically. Front line: shock troops.
They would be expendable, built to absorb the first wave of casualties and break our defensive line through sheer numbers.
Second line: better armed, tighter formation.
The real fighters. Command position would be somewhere in the back, invisible but present.
They kept coming. More and more of them, pouring out of the forest until the tree-line was alive with movement.
Fuck.
We’d baited Kane, alright. He’d come to burn Three Rivers to the ground and salt the earth behind him.
Ryan’s growl became a snarl—territorial power rising to meet the threat, the Alpha in him refusing to yield an inch. “Hold positions.” It was a command that settled into bone and blood and the ancient wiring that made us Pack. “Make them come to us.”
Around me, wolves steadied. The Pack bond pulled tight. Whatever came next, we’d face it together.
I found Derek’s eyes across the bridge. He nodded once. Sharp. Ready.
So was I.
The first line of Kane’s forces hit the riverbank, and the battle for Three Rivers began.