Chapter 20 - Arthur
The battle on the mountainside was already dying when Arthur tore the last hybrid’s throat out.
Snow churned red beneath his paws. His wolf panted, hot breath turning to mist, the copper taste of hybrid blood burned vile and wrong on his tongue.
Around him, his pack finished the work, two wolves dragging a limp, inhuman body downhill, another shaking gore from his coat.
A vampire crouched over another corpse, expression grim, fangs still bared.
It was over.
Too fast. Too easy.
Arthur shifted back, sucking in air that felt like knives in his lungs.
Dominic stalked toward him, already human again, jaw tight enough to crack teeth.
Leonid wiped his blade on the hem of a fallen hybrid’s shirt, smiling faintly as though the whole thing had been a mildly entertaining warm-up.
Rory shifted last, huge russet wolf melting back into a tall, rangy man with wind-reddened cheeks and a fearsome expression.
“That was…pathetic,” Leonid announced, nudging a hybrid corpse with the toe of his boot as though disappointed it didn’t twitch, “Three? Four? Not even worth shifting for.”
“Five,” Dom corrected sharply, “and shut up.”
Arthur’s pulse kicked harder. Three, no, five hybrids? That was nothing. A scouting party at best. A distraction at worst. His gut twisted, the same instinct that had driven him to drag Dani off the battlefield clawing up his spine.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Rory said quietly, gaze sweeping the ridge as Kiara pulled clothes for them out of a tiny bag. “Hybrids aren’t subtle. They overwhelm. They consume. Since when do they send…crumbs?”
Arthur wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing drying blood. “Unless they didn’t come for us.”
Dom’s head snapped up as he accepted a pile of clothes, tugging on the pants. “Meaning?”
“Meaning they weren’t trying to break our line.” Arthur scanned the tree line, the steep drop toward town. “They wanted us up here. All the alphas. All the strongest wolves. They wanted the town unguarded.”
A beat of silence fell, short, sharp, full of dread.
Then, from the trees, Theodore Hawthorne emerged at a run, snow spraying behind him. His face was chalk white.
“You need to see this,” he said, voice breathless. “Now.”
***
They ran.
Arthur tore downhill, faster than he’d ever moved.
Chase and the rest of the Nordan fell in behind him.
Dominic sprinted at his side, swearing under his breath.
Leonid kept pace with infuriating ease, looking almost delighted at the chaos.
Rory moved like a ghost through the trees, silent and deadly.
The smell hit them before they reached town.
Or rather, its absence.
There was no hint of witchcraft.
Arthur’s stomach dropped.
“Dani,” he choked, raw.
They broke out of the trees.
The outskirts of Skymist were too quiet. A warehouse door hung crooked. A trail of boot prints marred the fresh dusting of snow, multiple boots, too many moving in too many directions. A smear of soot marked a ward that had shattered violently.
They reached the Nordan compound gate at a dead sprint. It was open.
A guard slumped unconscious against the wall, pulse faint but steady. No wounds. No scent of a hybrid on him.
Dominic knelt beside him, cursing softly. “They’re not dead. Just…taken down.”
Arthur shoved past him into the compound.
The corridors were a wreck. Blankets thrown aside. A mug shattered on the floor. A single candle burned unattended, its flame guttering.
The lower common room door hung off its hinges.
Arthur’s heart nearly tore out of his chest.
“Aurelia!” he bellowed.
A muffled sob answered.
She burst out from behind an overturned table, a small shape in an oversized sweater, curls in disarray, eyes huge and wild with terror. She sprinted at him and collided with his chest so hard he staggered.
He dropped to his knees, arms crushing around her.
“Papa,” she sobbed into his shirt. “They took them, they took everyone…Mom…Edith…everyone—”
His breath stopped.
“Slow down,” he rasped, cupping the back of her head, “Auri, slow down. What happened?”
She dragged in a ragged breath and lifted her tear-streaked face. “Fenred,” she whispered. “He…he changed. His eyes went wrong. Mom knew something was happening. The door…someone blasted it open, and there were more of them and she—”
Her voice cracked, “She pulled the fire. She tried to keep them back. And Fenred just…just smiled. They took her. They dragged her and Edith and the others out, and”—she hiccupped so hard it shook her whole body—"and I hid like she told me. I’m sorry—”
“No,” Arthur said fiercely, gripping her shoulders. “You did right. You survived. That’s what she wanted.”
His voice broke on wanted.
Aurelia flung her arms around his neck, clinging like she thought he might disappear, too. He held her, hand splayed over her back, anchoring her to him, anchoring himself to something other than pure, murderous panic.
Dom, Leonid, Rory, Chase, all of them crowded into the doorway now. Faces grim. Eyes sharp.
Chase swallowed, looking from Aurelia’s shaking form to his brother’s expression. “Arthur…”
“Fenred,” Arthur said, the word a snarl, “Fenred took her.”
“And half the witches,” Lavinia said from behind Chase, her face bloodless, her remaining coven sisters trembling. “He’s been in our meetings. Our circles. He must have been hiding his scent for months.”
“Hybrids adapt,” Rory said darkly. “This has been building for longer than we guessed.”
Leonid sheathed his blade, expression sharpened, “If the hybrids took them, they’ll be on the move. They rarely linger once they have what they came for.”
“Why take witches?” Chase asked hoarsely. “Why take Dani?”
Dom looked sick as the truth settled. “Because they need witches. To make themselves stronger. It’s how they’ve been getting stronger. By taking witches.”
He whirled on some of his men, barking orders about doubling Layla’s guard.
“All the witches who left in the night,” Julian said, “they didn’t leave. They were stolen.”
Arthur couldn’t breathe.
He put a hand on Aurelia’s head, steadying her as tears kept silently running down her cheeks. His other hand braced on the floor to keep himself upright.
His mate. His daughter’s mother. Taken because he hadn’t let her fight. Because he’d thought he could keep her safe by sending her away.
His wolf howled inside his skull, vicious and broken.
“We’re getting them back,” he said, voice low and lethal, “all of them.”
“Do you know where they went?” Rory asked.
Aurelia scrubbed her face with her sleeve. “North,” she whispered. “I…I heard Fenred tell one of the others. North ridge. He said something about an old mine.”
Julian cursed. “The cave systems.”
“Then we need to move,” Dom said, already standing, “I’ll coordinate the Volkhov trackers. Julian can scent-map the trail.”
Leonid stretched his neck with a quiet crack, “My wolves will join. A favor owed, wolf.” His smile was bright and terrible. “You will pay it later.”
Arthur didn’t care. He’d bargain with devils if it meant Dani breathed another hour.
Chase moved closer, steady and sure, resting a hand on Aurelia’s back. “We’re getting your mom,” he told her softly. “You hear me? Every pack in this valley is going to tear apart the mountains until we find her.”
Aurelia nodded, swallowing hard.
Arthur rose slowly, lifting her with him. She wrapped her legs around his waist without being asked. She suddenly seemed so much younger. She was only ten. She’d always seemed so much larger than that.
He looked at the gathered alphas.
“Every tracker, every scout,” he said. “We move now. No delays. If Fenred is a hybrid, he’s been inside my house. My pack. He knows our patrols, our blind spots. We treat this as war.”
Dom nodded sharply. Rory murmured agreement. Even Leonid’s expression turned serious.
Lavinia stepped forward, voice shaking but steady. “If Dani is alive, she’ll fight. Hard. But they’ll expect that. They may try to use her magic. Or break her to get to the rest of us.”
Arthur’s blood turned to ice.
He adjusted Aurelia in his arms and met every alpha’s gaze in turn.
“Then we don’t give them the chance,” he said. “We track them, then we strike. We take our people back.”
Aurelia buried her face against his collarbone. He pressed a hand to her back, wishing he could give her more than words.
He’d never comforted a child before last week. Never expected to. But she clung to him like he was something solid in a world that had just cracked, and he would burn through stone before he let her fall.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her curls, “I should have been here.”
“Just find her,” Aurelia whispered back, voice shaking like glass. “Please.”
He closed his eyes.
“I will,” he vowed. “I swear it. On my pack. On my life. I will.”
When he looked at the others again, something in him had locked into place, cold, sharp, unyielding.
“Let’s move,” he said.
And the packs obeyed.
Wolves spilled out into the snow. Vampires leaped into the trees. The Severney shifted into pale shapes that vanished like ghosts into the dark. Even the Volnoye bent their heads to the wind, following the faintest hint north.
Arthur stood for one last second in the wrecked doorway of his compound, Aurelia held tight against him, listening to the echo of the bond, faint, distant, like a candle burning somewhere deep underground.
Hold on, he told her silently. I’m coming.
Then he passed Aurelia carefully to Chase, kissed the top of her head, and let his wolf rise.
A howl split the air.
A war cry.
A promise.
And the hunt began.