33. Briar
brIAR
T he portal spits us out into a lush forest with dappled light beginning to break through the towering pines as dawn crests. For a moment, all I can hear is my pulse hammering in my own ears and the faint hum of magic snapping closed behind us as Dad follows through last with the ring.
Damp morning air clings to my exposed arms, the air sharp with the scent of wet earth and bark. My focus shifts to the thrum of radios and the shuffle of too many feet moving through the immediate surrounding area.
I freeze, pulse catching as it hits me just how large the force is that’s been waiting for us here.
The treeline is alive with hundreds of them, a wall of armed humans in dark tactical gear. The glint of weapons and the shine of wet branches flash as they shift in formation. I hear gun clips slamming into place as orders pass in short, clipped bursts from whoever is in charge.
Quickly, the small human army divides into four separate groupings, obedient and silent as they take commands. Not too long ago they wouldn’t have hesitated to kill a vampire on sight. We’ve come so far in our alliance with them in such a short time.
Hope fills me for the future ahead. They’re willing to stand side by side with us now, to take down the lingering humans that cling to their hatred and righteous attitudes in eliminating supernaturals.
Soon, magical students will freely explore this world in exchange programs, if that’s what they want.
Without the fear of being killed by hunters.
We may still face prejudice and hatred from the average human–that won’t go away, probably ever–but taking down this network with the backing of the human government will be a clear, final statement to all: Coexistence is possible and encouraged.
The scale of our joint forces is staggering as we stand at the edge of the same compound that broke us apart piece by piece, all in our own ways.
My heart swells as confidence bolsters me. This is the result of patience and strategy.
If we hadn’t waited for the plan to come to fruition with the human government's support, we’d be marching in with fangs bared and hearts thundering with reckless desire. Instead, my feet turn in a slow circle as I take it all in, and I can’t imagine a way in which we aren’t triumphant now.
It’s nothing like the reckless charge I made when I first flung myself through a portal to New York, powered by heightened desperation and a half-thought out plan.
Coming to this realm feels entirely different now.
This time we’re entirely calculated and structured, every angle accounted for.
We didn’t allow our fear for Mom to enrage us into a hasty attempt at breaking her out.
Somehow I’m the one who convinced my fathers to wait, and standing here now, I finally feel the difference in who I am. What I endured in that compound–exactly what my parents tried so hard to shield me from–is exactly what forced me to grow past the sheltered girl I was then.
I know exactly what waits inside the walls of this compound.
I know what it feels like to be caged, starved, and broken down until nothing is left.
I hate that I had to live it, but I’m proud of who I’ve become in spite of it.
This time, I walk in with my eyes open and reclaim the broken pieces of me left behind.
Out of the corner of my eye I see Dante’s head swiveling slowly and his mouth parting like he’s trying to count all of the human agents. Callum lets out a low whistle and Elias elbows him without looking away from the two FBI agents closing ranks around my fathers in front of us.
I watch as Father speaks to a woman, her tightly woven blonde braid gleaming against the dark fabric of her black vest as she gestures toward a hand-drawn map tacked against a makeshift board.
Papa stands at her side, hands folded behind his back, nodding with her words.
Dad prowls the perimeter, gaze sharp and steady, as if daring any human in the forest to question him.
O ld habits die hard, I suppose. I don’t blame him for not trusting them to be our only eyes and ears, but I do hope that when all this is done, my family will begin to accept the peace forming between our peoples, and encourage our own citizens to foster healthier feelings toward the human world.
The woman with the braid doesn’t falter as the boys and I approach.
Her finger traces over the lines of the map, tapping key points with the precision of someone who’s agonized over every possible outcome ten times over in her mind.
Her voice carries, low but firm, outlining the phases of entry and fallback positions.
Papa’s profile is sharp beside her while Father asks clipped questions about the teams covering the eastern perimeter. Even here, surrounded by humans who don’t answer to him, he radiates authoritative energy that draws the gazes of countless humans quietly watching.
I edge closer, my eyes dragging over the crude sketch pinned to the board. The outline of the compound is familiar enough to make my stomach twist. Every hallway, every block of cells, every room that swallowed me whole has been reduced to lines and arrows.
Her debriefing filters through me, piece by piece.
Dante will join one of the FBI teams handling surveillance, guiding them through the security systems he knows too well.
Callum’s name is tied to the unit assigned to the mist tanks, his task being to help them find and disable the source before it can be used against us.
Elias is placed with the front line pressing toward the weapons chamber.
My fathers and I have the smallest unit, with arrows for us showing our path to go in last and cut straight for the cells on the bottom floor.
We will only have a small backing of humans, but the woman makes it clear that they know we can change up the plans at any point and are in charge of that group.
The air around us feels heavier as the assignments settle into place. The woman tells us to fall into our assigned blocks, and whenever we are ready to begin, they will start the mission.
She walks away and my fathers come together in a line to look back at us.
Their gazes go over my shoulders to the humans who brought me a sense of peace and safety last night that I’ve yet to process.
I can’t help but turn over my shoulder, needing to get a look at them one last time before all of this begins.
We’ve barely exchanged any words this morning, with them giving me space to talk or not, as I saw fit. I’ve been extremely appreciative of it, with my focus being solely on getting my mom back since my eyes opened and I found myself nestled between the brothers.
I can’t sacrifice any of my focus today. Hopefully they’ll stick around after for us to figure our shit out.
I feel the shift of every pair of eyes in the clearing on our group.
Elias is the first to speak, his words clipped. “We can’t change the past.” His jaw flexes as his eyes flick to me, then back to my fathers. “But we can prove where we stand now.”
My chest constricts as I hold his stare, feeling the weight of all the nights I wanted to kill him, and the days since where we’ve connected physically and emotionally.
Callum lifts his chin, bright blue eyes sparking in the dim morning light. “Even at the end of this, we will be on your side.”
His hands curl into fists at his sides like he dares anyone to doubt him. The corners of my mouth tug up into a soft smile as I nod at him. Somehow he knew I needed to hear that this mission wouldn’t be the end of us.
Dante’s silence stretches until it’s a weight of its own.
His gaze is steady on me and I glance down, noticing his knuckles are still raw from last night’s training.
When he finally speaks, his words are low but meant for my fathers as he looks past me to them.
“I won’t let him take anything more from her or your family. ”
My pulse thrums unevenly, a warmth of emotion rushing to my cheeks. For the first time since stepping through the portal this morning, I’m not thinking about anything but these men and what it takes to stand here and claim this in front of me and my fathers.
A small gasp fills the space between us as I realize any lingering doubt I have in them and any amount of anger I harbored are gone. All I feel while staring at them now is a deep, trembling ache to ensure they all make it out of here alive.
The feeling of it roots me in place and for a moment, no one answers their decrees.
The forest holds still and not even a human dares to speak.
I half-turn to glance at my fathers and find each of them studying the three humans that wormed their way into my heart.
My body braces instinctively, ready to hear the dismissal that a human could ever truly be on our side, despite the proof in our army here today.
But then Father nods once, firm and final.
His deep voice rumbles through the clearing. “Be careful when you go in there. Our daughter has suffered enough loss. Don’t add to it by getting yourselves killed.”
The ground feels like it tilts beneath me as his words crash over me again and again.
He’s not just tolerating and accepting their presence as supportive humans…he’s recognizing openly what these men have become to me, and supporting it.
My lungs fight for air and my head swings to glance at Elias, Callum, and Dante, catching the mirrored looks of shock flickering across their faces.
Slowly their disbelief shifts into something warmer, steadier as their parted mouths close and their eyes soften.
All that’s left is admiration and open relief, and all of it is suddenly focused on me.
Callum’s lips curve into the faintest smirk, Elias’s dark blue eyes are alight with a fierce desire, and Dante looks at me like he’s been waiting for this permission his entire life.
It’s too much. My heart slams against my ribs, my hands twitch at my sides, and I can’t decide if I want to laugh, cry, or scream at the sky.
Papa breaks the moment with a groan, and I pull my head back to see him rubbing at his face. “Ugh, spare us. Just because we decided not to kill you doesn’t mean we want to see you look at her like that.”
Dad flips a knife between his fingers, his tone flat and edged. “You’ve got three seconds before you each lose your ability to see her. Move along into your assigned units.”
They linger long enough to give me one last look. Silent vows, etched in their eyes and carved into my chest, before they finally peel off with their assigned teams.
Nervous energy rolls through me as I watch them disappear into the treeline. The forest swallows their shapes until there’s nothing left but the echo and crunch of boots shifting across fallen leaves and branches.
It’s beginning.
My chest feels too tight, breath snagging as the weight of what’s coming presses in on me.
Every thought circles back to Terrance. To what he did to me.
To what he could be doing to my mother inside those walls.
To Elias, Callum, and Dante–how he broke them down until obedience was all they had left.
Then my thoughts turn to how many other supernaturals he’s hunted relentlessly and tortured for his sick, twisted games.
We may never truly know the extent of his murderous network, but I do know it ends now.
My jaw clenches tightly until it aches, blood rushing like fire throughout my body. Rage floods in, drowning out the last trace of hesitation.
I don’t fight it when my fangs lengthen. I let the bloodlust rise. I want it. I need it.
“Lyra. Kael.” Their names slip through my teeth like a vow as I call them forward with my palms open.
They answer instantly, their familiar weight sliding into my palms.
Lyra thrums low and steady, “Let’s finish this, Briar.”
“We’ll become the monster they truly fear,” Kael growls in my mind as the edge of his black blade catches the light that filters through the trees.
Both of them pulse with the same need coiling in my chest–vengeance, clean and absolute.
For once, the three of us are in perfect unison and I feel something twist in my mind, like a lock has been turned. A soft gasp falls from my lips as warmth flares in my palms, like the runes are searing into my skin.
“Finally,” they purr simultaneously. “We are one now that you know yourself.”
I unwrap my hands enough to inspect them and my eyes widen with shock as I read the runes that have evaded my endless research.
Lyra’s hilt reads in glowing red words, “Born of your soul, I shield.”
My eyes flick toward Kael and find, “Born of your rage, I end.”
I wrap my hands firmly around them once more, feeling the balance settle within my soul. Their familiar energy grounds me even as they push me higher in my thirst for justice.
Their etched words encapsulate me perfectly. I will shield those who deserve it, and I will end those who don’t. This is who I was born to be.
“Born of your soul, I shield; born of your rage, I end.”
“This ends tonight,” I whisper.
Papa’s chin dips once, Dad’s mouth hardens into a thin line, and Father’s gaze locks on mine until I can’t look away.
“Let’s get justice, Briar patch,” he says, his voice rough in a way I know is reserved for those he trusts to see how much he’s struggling within. “Let’s bring Mom home.”
The old nickname twists in my chest, catching me off guard. My throat burns with surging emotions, but I hold his stare and nod, clutching the hilts at my sides.
This is it.
We’re going in, and this time, Terrance doesn’t get to win.