Chapter 21 - Elena
Several wolves trailed alongside Elena as they made their way through the forest. Zach and Tolliver were up ahead of the rest of the pack, scouting to find Ryder's location. The group had been hiking for several hours, weaving between trees and dodging obstacles. The wolves seemed to struggle to follow the scents they occasionally picked up, making turns back and forth, pausing to double-check. Adrian and Liam, two younger shifters, were tasked with guarding Elena, and they flanked her on either side as she walked.
She focused all her senses on the energy around them, trying to pinpoint the spot where her vision had come true. So far, she didn't seem to be having much luck, and judging from the frustrated growls and mutters that floated through the air, neither did they. With every mile they traveled through the dusky thicket, her nerves grew tighter, and her stomach sank further. Had her premonition already come to pass? Was he dead already, lying alone somewhere on the cold ground, dying? The image from her dream assaulted her senses endlessly, threatening to break her down into terrified tears. It took every ounce of her willpower and discipline to keep her head on straight. Panic would get her nowhere. She had to believe. She had to hope.
As they passed a small brook, a jolt of adrenaline shot through her, stopping her dead in her tracks. Something powerful hit her like a physical blow. She let out a gasp of surprise as it shook her to the core. Every fiber in her body was suddenly alert. Around her, the wolves turned to look, tensing up in response to her sudden reaction. Several of them lowered their bodies defensively, hackles raised, and ears perked up. Tolliver stopped a few paces ahead, glancing back at her in concern, but she barely noticed him. Cold terror coursed through her veins like ice water, spreading through her limbs rapidly and constricting her chest painfully.
She didn't know how she knew, but she felt it. Ryder was in danger. He was hurt. He needed her. Immediately.
Panic rose within her chest as the realization set in. All her instincts screamed at her that time was running out. Her breathing grew shallow and rapid, and her eyes widened as a cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck. No. It was too soon. It couldn't possibly be too late. Phantom pain shot through her abdomen as if sharp claws had ripped into her stomach. She winced and clutched at the spot where the imaginary wound throbbed, stumbling backward into a nearby tree. Without conscious effort, magic began to bubble up in her gut.
“Elena? What's wrong?” Tolliver demanded worriedly. He leaped over to her side and put a steadying paw on her shoulder, his brows furrowed deeply.
She barely heard him. The sounds around her dimmed and faded, replaced by a deafening ringing noise. Another jolt of pain flared in her chest, nearly knocking the breath from her lungs. Tears stung her eyes and blurred her vision. Around her, the gentle breeze began to stir, whipping up leaves and debris into tiny whirlwinds. No. Not now. She couldn't lose control here. Ryder needed her. Them. If this magical cyclone grew, they might never make it to him in time.
Her fingers dug into the rough bark of the tree behind her. She forced herself to take a deep breath. The night he was wounded by the rogue wolf, she felt the same kind of pain. The instinctive certainty that something awful had happened to him. That he was injured or lost. That night, her magic had guided her to him and allowed her to save him, operating on some deep- seated, primal drive to protect him. If she had done it then, maybe she could do it now. Focus and stay calm. Let her powers work for her instead of fighting it.
“Elena?” Tolliver repeated insistently. The wind picked up further, stirring up leaves in spirals. “Ellie, tell me what's happening!”
She could barely hear his voice now, coming from a great distance away, muffled by the static in her head. She swallowed hard and pushed the panic aside forcefully. If this was going to help them save him, she had to relax and allow it. Instead of pushing against the force rushing inside her chest, she embraced it, letting her consciousness rise and expand. She shut her eyes tightly, focusing her entire being on connecting with him through her magic. Pain blossomed through her midsection as his agony coursed through her.
Images flashed in her mind. Whether from her dreams or from somewhere in this forest right now, she wasn't sure. A large rock formation overlooking a small stream. At least a dozen large, feral wolves clawed and snapped and howled. Overhead, clouds rolled in, covering the moon in a cloak of darkness. Fear. Rage. Pain. Grief. Guilt. The emotions radiated from her mind into every corner of her being. She couldn't breathe. Fangs and claws glinted like blades. Somewhere among the frenzied chaos, she felt him.
Her eyes shot open. The haphazard gusts of wind surrounding them began to twist and spiral upward into a miniature funnel cloud that hovered several feet above them. The other shifters backed away slowly, staring up at it with a mixture of awe and fear. It danced in the air gracefully, spinning and twirling over their heads.
“Show me,” Elena whispered breathlessly.
The funnel expanded and contracted slightly in time with her heartbeat. Then, as though it had heard her plea, it whirled off through the trees ahead of them. The wolves reacted immediately and raced after it, bounding forward with lightning speed. Tolliver followed swiftly behind the others, with Elena keeping up as best she could over the unruly terrain. Twigs cracked underneath their feet, and branches scratched at their faces as they darted between trees and leaped over logs. The wind swirled around them, howling and screaming as it spun up and down. It created a pathway through the woods for them to follow, showing them the way. Leaves and debris flew wildly about in the air currents, but their pace never slowed. They charged recklessly ahead. There was no time to waste.
Elena struggled to keep up with their furious pace. Her legs felt like lead weights as she sprinted after them. Branches snagged at her clothes and tangled her hair. Brambles scratched at her skin and snatched at her pants legs. Trees flashed by in her peripheral vision as she blindly chased after the funnel. Even as exhaustion threatened to drag her into unconsciousness, she refused to falter or fall behind. Every cell in her body yearned to reach Ryder. She poured everything she had into fueling that desire. It kept her running. It gave her strength. It filled her with an almost feral determination. All she knew was that she had to find him, and nothing would stand in her way.
Zach's warning growl rumbled through the trees as he skidded to a halt in front of the pack. The other shifters froze behind him, their muscles tensed and ears pressed flat. Their tails were tucked, and they stood on high alert as they gazed ahead into the dark unknown. Not far ahead, the sound of snarling and snapping jaws echoed out from behind a thick curtain of bushes and shrubs. A chorus of angry howls and barks rang through the air. She stumbled to a stop just behind the line of shifters. Beside her, Tolliver crouched down low to the ground, growling deeply in his chest. His pupils dilated to vertical slits. They all smelled blood in the wind now, thick, coppery, and heavy.
“Careful,” the alpha ordered quietly. “Strike as one. Don't be reckless. Keep it tight and coordinated.”
His voice was low and harsh. The command carried an urgency that wasn't lost on any of them. The pack fell into formation without question or hesitation. Side by side, they crept cautiously along the edge of the bushes, sticking close together and stepping lightly, careful not to snap any twigs underfoot. The howls continued without pause. One by one, the members of the pack shifted seamlessly and disappeared into the shadows, following their leader toward the source of the commotion.
“Stay out of sight,” Tolliver whispered to Elena. Without another word, he sprang forward into the darkness to join the rest of the team.
A cold breeze blew across her skin as he left, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. As quietly as she could, she crept forward through the bushes to try to catch a glimpse of the scene ahead. Through the leaves, she saw the clearing her magic had showed her. The giant rock formation with the boulder perched atop the tallest part loomed ominously, and in the center of it, wolves clashed with violent ferocity. Their teeth flashed in the moonlight as they lunged at each other's throats and bellies in a blur of fur and fangs. Snarls and growls pierced the air like thunderclaps, punctuated by the occasional whine or howl as sharp teeth sank into soft tissue and claws rent and sliced.
Elena’s heart pounded violently against her ribs. She had never witnessed anything like it before. Her guiding wind, which had remained relatively calm throughout their trek through the forest, now dissipated back into angry gusts that swirled up bits of leaves and sticks from the ground and sent them hurtling into the chaos before them. Loud thuds and dull thumps emanated from the clearing as rocks and branches collided with muscle, bone, and fur. In the chaos, she couldn't make out who was who or what was what. It was a swirling mass of limbs and teeth and claws tearing and raking through each other's hides with brutal efficiency, each striking out with deadly purpose.
Ryder. Where was Ryder? With tears stinging in her eyes, she searched the battlefield desperately for the familiar coat of golden brown. Among the writhing and screeching mass of fur and rippling muscles, she spotted him, pinned under the enormous bulk of a black wolf that snarled and slashed at his throat and belly. Ryder twisted and writhed beneath him in agony and kicked and bucked to try to free himself of the weight pinning him down. Above him, the nightmarish beast from Elena's visions loomed over him, golden eyes ablaze with malice. Crimson blood dripped onto the dirt floor, trickling steadily into puddles all around.
Time slowed to a crawl, and every second stretched into eternity. Fury built up inside her. Red-hot anger surged into her chest and bubbled over until it boiled inside her veins. In response to her emotions, her magical energy flared up, whipping the wind into a tempest around the clearing. Branches and rocks pelted at the rogue wolves and crashed against them, throwing them off balance and momentarily distracting them. Friend and foe alike were caught in the whirlwind raging around them. Pieces of bark and shards of stone whizzed past them and into the bushes on all sides. Furious gales pulled at their bodies and clothes, creating eddies that sucked them in closer together. Gods, she needed to get a hold of herself. For once in her life, she needed her magic to obey.
“The witch is here,” she heard the black wolf shout over the howling torrent. His voice reverberated through the night air, filling it with echoes of his rage and pain. “Find her!”
As the words faded from hearing range, Tolliver bounded from his cover with a fierce snarl and leaped for Asher, teeth bared. The black wolf was too strong and fast even for the most skilled combatant in their pack, however, and he seized the younger wolf by the throat and flung him into a nearby tree. Elena recoiled at the sickening sound of her brother's pained yelp as he made impact. A cry of anguish escaped her lips as she watched him slide limply to the ground and crumple into a heap in the dirt. His light brown fur was streaked with red blood from new wounds. He forced himself back up onto his feet, but his legs wobbled as he tried to maintain his balance. He swayed from side to side and staggered forward, determined to defend his little sister.
No. She couldn't let him do this. She couldn't let everyone else risk their lives while she hid in the bushes. Her helplessness had already injured her friends, and now, her brother lay wounded because of her. This needed to end. With a sharp nod to herself, she stepped out from the safety of her hiding place and into the eye of the storm, head held high and fists clenched tightly at her sides.
Instantly, Asher's muzzle twisted into a predatory grin that chilled her to her very bones. He rose up to his full height and stared at her, eyes burning with hatred and vengeance. Blood trickled down his chin from his bared fangs in long strands that dripped down into the mud. Below him, Ryder lay helplessly, his side heaving slowly, barely conscious and covered in scratches and lacerations. He let out a whimpering grunt as his eyes opened and locked onto hers. For a moment, there was only the sound of her own labored breathing. Time seemed to slow as their eyes met. His expression conveyed everything he couldn’t say. Relief. Longing. Regret.
“Elena,” he forced out weakly, “run.”
His feeble attempt to warn her came out more of a strained grunt than actual words. Elena felt his pain as if it were her own, every bit of agony that rippled through his battered frame. He looked weak and vulnerable, lying broken at the mercy of the monsters all around him, yet his eyes pleaded with her to save herself. The last embers of his will to fight flickered and sputtered in his eyes as he struggled to move. He was still clinging desperately to the last of his strength, but it was fading fast. If she didn't act quickly, she would lose him forever.
Without thinking, she sprang forward, ignoring his strangled protests, and darted toward him. She was vaguely aware that feral rogues lunged and slashed at her from all directions, their eyes wide and manic as they reached out with bloodied claws, trying to catch her in their grasp. The zephyr struck back against them with ferocious fury. Every step she took was matched by a furious gust of wind that threw back the nearest rogues and left a space for her to dart through unharmed. The storm howled in her ear, an orchestra of pure magical power that responded to her subconscious desires. For the first time in her life, it bent to her.
Just as she knelt at his side to inspect his injuries, Asher released an earsplitting roar. “Kill her!”
One by one, the rogues charged at her position, trying to maim and tear their way through the tempest shield that encased the two of them. Thick tufts of fur and blood splattered in all directions as the wind threw the crazed rogues back and smashed them into the trees and stones. Her own pack had stepped back, ears lying flat against their heads, muscles tensed to launch another attack at a moment's notice. In the middle of the chaos, Elena was unaware of anything outside of the shifter in her arms. There was nothing but the sound of his ragged breathing and the feel of his damp, bloody fur beneath her fingers. Tears spilled from her eyes and dripped onto his face. He was dying. Gods, he couldn't die.
Through the wall of wind, a single hulking form cut a path. The black wolf forced himself through the onslaught of debris, his gaze never leaving its target. Step by step, he drew nearer, relentless and unstoppable, a living embodiment of hate and vengeance. Her hands trembled as she stroked Ryder's ears gently and fought to keep the waves of sorrow from drowning her. The closer Asher came, the harder she clung to her love, unwilling to let go. She shielded him with her body, clinging tightly as if somehow her embrace might protect them both. Tears fell unhindered down her cheeks. It wasn't enough. They were out of time.
“Why are you doing this?” she called out desperately through the torrential winds. “I remember you, Asher. You used to be a good man. A decent wolf who wanted to protect people. This isn't who you are!”
His laughter boomed above the howl of the storm. The sound resonated deep inside her gut, setting every nerve in her body on fire. It terrified and infuriated her all at once.
“You know nothing of me, little girl,” he sneered menacingly as he took another step closer, then another. “All I ever wanted was justice. But your precious pack chose to protect this foolish pup. My mate was murdered by his arrogance and ignorance, and they abandoned me. Abandoned us. Iris deserves to be avenged, and I will see it done.”
He broke through the edge of the cyclone just as he finished speaking. Each word was emphasized with another step closer to his goal, his voice booming like thunder overhead. Elena pulled Ryder protectively into her arms as the massive, vengeful beast stalked forward, his muscles tensing and relaxing methodically in anticipation. In her grip, Ryder stirred faintly and let out a faint groan of protest. Even now, as his lifeblood soaked into the soil beneath him, he sought to defend her.
Their powerlessness in the face of this overwhelming violence hit her with full force, and she felt the fatigue that came from magical exertion begin to creep into her senses. The cyclone that had been steadily growing wilder and stronger faltered somewhat. Still, she held on to her determination and stubborn hope in the face of all odds. She couldn't give up. For her own sake, for Ryder's, and most of all, for the child that grew within her. She had seen what their future could look like. As long as she breathed, she intended to do everything in her power to bring it to life. With those thoughts in mind, she straightened up and glared defiantly at Asher, summoning the last dregs of her willpower.
“Iris wouldn't want this,” she called out to him. “She gave her life to protect Ryder—to protect all of you. If you kill us now, her sacrifice would have been in vain.”
She forced her trembling body to still and took a deep breath, watching the looming shifter carefully. For a brief moment, something akin to doubt crept into his eyes, and he gave pause. Hatred still burned fiercely behind his golden eyes, but some part of him hesitated. There was still a part of him, however small, that grief and fury had not yet fully devoured. She latched onto it desperately, willing to cling to any hope at all. Beneath all the rage and resentment lay a man who had once been noble and just. If she could reach him somehow, perhaps there was a chance for them yet.
“Iris loved you more than anything,” she went on as the storm began to subside around them. “She wouldn't want you to throw your life away in pursuit of revenge. She loved you because you were kind and selfless, and you both fought to protect this pack with all your strength. Don't make her death meaningless by letting hatred corrupt her memory.”
She gestured frantically toward the countless injured, battered wolves surrounding them, heaving and gasping for air as they bled and staggered and cried. Asher stood silently in the heart of the storm, his eyes flickering rapidly between fury and uncertainty. His bloody claws retracted and extended reflexively. Although his rippling muscles remained coiled to strike, to spring upon them and rip them apart once and for all, he remained motionless. Above his head, the moon bathed the clearing in an eerie silver glow that cast deep shadows across the shifters' furry silhouettes. Every second stretched into a lifetime. Elena took a deep breath, then raised her hands. Slowly and deliberately, she extended her arms outward in a peaceful gesture.
“You know Ryder never meant for any harm to come to your mate,” she continued carefully, weighing each word with utmost care. “He's a good man doing his best to make up for the mistakes that got her killed. That's why he came here tonight. He blames himself, too. But killing him won't bring her back, and it won't bring you peace. All it will do is create more misery. Do you really believe, in your heart, that Iris would want that?”
Her voice trembled as she spoke, fear and exhaustion seeping through into her voice. Tears fell freely down her cheeks. Still, she held her ground firmly, refusing to waver an inch, staring straight into the black wolf's burning eyes. Her hand rested on Ryder's chest, silently pleading with him to hold on a little longer. Around her, the air stilled as the gales finally began to dissipate fully. It was as if the world held its breath, shifters on both sides waiting, watching, all wounded and weak from the senseless violence. Silence reigned. No one dared to move.
In front of her, the dark wolf's immense bulk shuddered in the moonlight. His head hung low over her, heavy and weary. A defeated sound escaped his throat as he shook off the lingering vestiges of madness and lowered himself to crouch on four paws. They eyed each other warily in the dim light, neither of them blinking or looking away. Every hair on Elena's skin stood on end. One strike and it would all be over. At their sides, Elena felt Tolliver and Zach approaching cautiously, readying themselves to pounce should they need to. She lifted her hand gingerly without breaking eye contact, motioning for them to stay back. Wait. One wrong move now might undo everything.
After a tense moment that seemed to last millennia, Asher inclined his head slightly downward in a sign of respect. “As much as I'd like to deny it,” he conceded quietly in a gravelly whisper that echoed hauntingly through the night air, “you speak the truth, little witch. My Iris was the most compassionate soul to ever live among the stars. She loved these woods and this pack with all her heart. To defile them in her name would dishonor her to the highest degree.”
The words sounded like they physically pained him to speak, and when he rose back up onto his hind legs once again, he seemed far less intimidating than he had moments before. It was as if his entire body had sagged under the weight of his grief. With one final glance toward Elena and Ryder, he turned away slowly and stared out into the dense trees with a quiet sigh that rustled through the leaves around them. Then, he let out a soul-piercing, mournful howl that was echoed by dozens more voices across the clearing. At first, only the rogues joined in, but gradually, the Bellefleur chimed in as well in respect for their fallen packmate until the song of grief rang out clearly for miles.
Once the eerie music had faded from the wind and silence had settled over them once more, Asher heaved one last labored breath. He nodded once more toward Elena, then turned on his heel, crouched down, and leaped into the air. His shadowy form disappeared into the forest on the far side of the clearing, chased away by moonlight filtering down through the leaves overhead. One by one, the remaining rogues followed suit, turning tail and fleeing into the safety of the night forest.
“They're wounded,” one of the Bellefleur shifters muttered as they watched the scene unfold. “We can easily track them down and finish them.”
Elena barely heard them as she slumped down atop Ryder's chest, completely drained of energy. No. This had to be over now. Her mind was clouding over, foggy, and disoriented. Pain lanced through every joint and muscle. She felt her consciousness begin to drift in and out as black spots swirled before her vision, even as she tried to fight it off, but her limbs were useless now. She could hardly muster the strength to lift a finger.
“So are we,” came Zach's weary voice through the fog in her mind. “We need to take care of our wounded. Let them go.”
At those words, the world went black.