Chapter 2
PROTECT THE PACK
NIA
I race to the doors, throwing them open and using my arm to try to encourage the women and children to hurry. They’re running as fast as they can, but it isn’t fast enough.
Not now the sounds of fighting have reached my ears.
This isn’t a small skirmish and it doesn’t sound like a few rogue wolves have intruded on our territory. It’s too aggressive, too visceral. There’s too much noise and it’s far too orchestrated.
It’s the sound of a carefully planned and executed attack being put into motion.
The pack is in disarray and most of what I sense in the reopened channels that bind us is panic.
There’s confusion and fear, concern that partners won’t see each other again and might not make it to tomorrow.
Children are afraid and their mothers are trying to comfort them, while their fathers are trying to shield them from their own emotions.
They’re not good.
There’s pain and fear, and the decision made to keep fighting despite the carnage erupting around them. Choices are made and the consequences paid, and I catch the smell of iron and copper in the air.
The fastest children rush past me and I direct them towards the basement. It’s not ideal, and it’s meant to be a last resort. But it is secure and the walls and doors that protect it are made of silver and difficult to get through. The enchantments cast over them make it damn near impenetrable.
Some of the women make it into the mansion and they hand their children over to the older ones. We’ve drilled this enough time to perform an evacuation or retreat efficiently. We’re precise and we can’t make any errors, not now we’re doing this for real.
Carrie carries some children past me, placing them on the floor before turning to meet my gaze.
Her eyes are full of terror, and the softness of her features is replaced with a harshness that means she’s worried.
For Will. They might not be souls destined to complete each other but they have a connection that matters and it’s threatened.
Her gaze turns to the horizon as she tracks the shadows between the trees, trying to catch a glimpse of her husband. The darkness is unaffected and her fingers clench as she waits, helping to usher more women and children inside.
The woods are concealing the violence from our eyes, but the sounds of fighting grow louder.
The thuds and shouts become deafening and they’ve replaced the sounds of play in a few brief minutes that feel like an eternity.
All the festivities are over and the celebrations of everything our ancestors have brought us replaced with existential dread that there may be nothing more.
An explosion rips through the air and its force makes the leaves shake and the tree trunks tremble. Hot air pushes me back, lashing the skin on my face with a sting as strong as any slap. The pressure makes my eyes water and I brace against the wind, determined to give as little ground as possible.
It’s a mistake.
The earth beneath me shakes and I lose my balance, stumbling around like an idiot in the doorway.
I regain my composure in time to hear the laughter from the men emerging from the tree line. It isn’t friendly. It isn’t kind. It’s the mocking, cruel laughter of men who know they have an advantage. It’s unreservedly callous, certain that containing their contempt is unnecessary.
The men take a step forward, breaking cover and letting me see their faces. They’re not our pack. They’re not a pack I recognize. They’re unafraid and so sure of themselves that they haven’t even taken their wolf forms.
Lyall growls again and I stand tall.
The men move forward and their heads tilt in unison, all intrigued by the little girl who refuses to cower before them. She’s smaller, less powerful, and outnumbered but she’s not retreating and she isn’t showing fear.
And she isn’t changing either.
I should be.
But it’s too unpredictable. Too dangerous.
For me, more than everyone around me. It’s a skill I haven’t mastered and I’m late in learning how to do this.
I’m twenty and most werewolves master this by their fifteenth birthday and—as the Elders delight in reminding me—I was blessed with my wolf earlier than most.
She’s been a constant presence for over ten years now, and while we’ve come together in many ways, we’ve failed to find our way through the transformation.
Lyall’s reluctant to push me and I sense her concern, reading her worry as a sign of how weak she thinks I am.
I’ve been reluctant too, especially since that afternoon.
The one where she forced a transformation without my consent.
It saved my life but it’s made me wary. She saved me—us—and I’ve repaid her kindness with mistrust.
“Get inside, Carrie.”
My best friend stiffens as she draws level with me. Her head turns to face me and I don’t acknowledge her, staring down the five men edging closer to the mansion.
“You can’t take them on, Nia.”
“GET. INSIDE.”
Carrie’s jaw clicks as it snaps shut. She stands next to me, refusing to obey my command. It’s an act of solidarity designed to bolster my resolve, but her challenge and disobedience are infuriating, particularly now we have little room to maneuver.
“I’m not asking again, Carrie.”
“You can’t be serious,” she replies, watching as the men start moving faster. “There’s five of them.”
“Close the doors on the way to the basement.”
“I’m not fucking going.”
My fingers curl into fists as my annoyance crescendos into a wave that might break her apart. We don’t have the time for a stupid argument and someone has to close the doors that form each layer of defense inside the mansion.
“Even with your wolf…” Carrie cuts herself off. “Nia, you’re the Alpha’s daughter. You’re the future of this pack and if you don’t get through this then there’s nothing left. You’re the one who survives this.”
She’s right.
But she’s incredibly wrong.
My pack is all of me and I am my pack. They’d protect me as I’d protect them, and that’s the way it’s meant to be.
It’s how my mother taught me it should be.
We all have our roles and our stations, but none is more important than the other.
It’s how the pack stays together, it’s how we come together.
It’s the tie that binds us and the silent, unsworn oath we’ve all taken.
It's sacred and it’s meant to be unbreakable, and now is not the time to put it to the test.
Lyall rises and her hackles are up, reacting to the threat charging toward us and Carrie’s suggestion I sacrifice at least some of the pack to save myself.
“Protect the pack, Nia.”
It’s been a long time since my wolf spoke to me directly, and her voice is a harsh cry that summons the anger and rage I’ve only known once before.
It’s a wave that rips through me, burning hotter than the adrenaline coursing through my veins and spreading faster than the men racing closer.
There’s enough venom pouring into me to poison most souls and my turns black, tainted by the viciousness of the wolf seeping into me.
“Always protect the pack.”
I step forward, shaky but sure. I’m good at this. Better than most. It’s the one lesson I did surprisingly well at and even Carrie struggled to hold her own against me when I was backed into a corner. I’m small but fast and surprisingly sturdy. Much stronger than my stature suggests.
“Close the doors, Carrie.”
She whimpers and I move forward, ignoring her. The time for arguing and inaction is over. We’re past that stage. The pack attacking us isn’t going to back down and the five men are the first test of many we’ll be facing today.
The pain and fear spreading into me from the men fighting in the woods tells me we’re still in this fight, and that’s better than it could be.
It isn’t as bad as I’d feared and I’m sure whoever planned this thought it would be over by now.
Or it’d be close to being over, which is why they’ve sent a small party to take the Alpha’s daughter.
It’s a move that has little risk on their part and if I’m captured then I’ll be used to force my father to surrender. They’ll assume my father won’t sacrifice me to save himself, but I’m not so sure. Not with his obsession about avenging my mother’s death.
It might be different if I resembled her. If I had some of her temperament and mannerisms. But I don’t, and he’s made me acutely aware of the burden I am—to both him and the pack.
This is bold and possibly stupid, but it’s better than cowering in a corner and it’s the path my mother would have chosen. It’s the right thing to do and I’m acutely aware I’m alone when a door clicks shut behind me.
Only one click though.
Carrie’s waiting. She’s holding on for as long as she can, giving me time to retreat if she can.
It’s the right decision, but I’m not sure she has it in her to close the door in my face and sacrifice me to the men outside.
She’s not that ruthless, she’s not that determined.
She’s soft and pliant, too compassionate for her own good at a time like this.
The first man reaches me and I sweep to the side, throwing my leg out as I step past him.
He cries as he lunges forward, trips, and is sent flying through the air and crashing to the ground.
I keep moving, ignoring the crash behind me as I slam my fist into the second man’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him and forcing him to double over.
I don’t waste time, throwing my weight behind another punch that lands square on his jaw, whipping his head back.
His eyes roll back as he staggers for a second, finally surrendering to the darkness sweeping into his consciousness.
I arch my back, bending out of the way of a fist that heads towards my chest. My body pivots as I harness my momentum, channeling it into my next throw. It lands hard and sends the third man tumbling backward, just in time for me to block another attack from someone new.