Chapter 23 - Bryan
The first Cheslem wolf breaks through the tree line just as the sun crests the eastern ridge.
I’m standing at the edge of the pack house grounds with Nic on my left and Thomas on my right.
Behind us, the evacuation teams are still moving people toward the safe zones Luna identified.
James has his earpiece in, coordinating the last of the bomb disposal efforts.
His voice comes through so low I can barely hear over the pounding of my own heart.
We’ve found five of the six explosives so far.
The sixth is buried somewhere in the school’s foundation, where Luna’s magic can’t quite reach.
We’re running out of time.
“Here they come,” Nic announces. “Hold the line until the civilians are clear. Then we push them back.”
More wolves pour from the forest. Twenty, thirty, more than I can count. They fan out across the open ground between the trees and the pack house. Rafe has been planning this attack for years, maybe. Every move we’ve made has played into his hands.
Until now.
I spot him at the center of his forces. He’s still in human form, and his wolves flank him on either side.
He’s wearing all black, and his dark hair is slicked back.
Even from this distance, I can see the smile stretching across his face.
He thinks he’s already won. He thinks Silvercreek is about to burn, and everyone I love will burn with it.
He’s wrong.
Rafe’s voice carries across the field, amplified by some magic I don’t recognize. “I was hoping you’d be here, Bryan. It wouldn’t be the same without you watching everything you care about turn to ash.”
I step ahead of Nic and Thomas. This is my fight. Rafe came here because of me, and he’ll die because of me, too.
“Your explosives are being dismantled as we speak,” I tell him. “Whatever you planned, it’s over. Surrender now, and maybe Nic will let you live long enough to regret your choices.”
Rafe laughs. Several of his wolves laugh with him.
“You think I didn’t plan for that? You think I put all my eggs in one basket?” He spreads his arms wide. “The explosives were a distraction. A way to keep your pack busy while my real forces moved into position.”
“Then why are you still talking?” I take another step forward. “If you’ve already won, why not just attack?”
“Because I want you to understand.” Something ugly moves behind his eyes. “I want you to know exactly why this is happening before I tear your throat out. You killed my brother. You destroyed my family’s legacy. Everything that’s about to happen is because of you.”
“Your brother was a murderer. Your father was a monster. Whatever legacy the Cheslem pack had, it was built on corruption and death. I don’t regret what I did. I’d do it again.”
“I know you would. That’s what makes this so satisfying.” The smile returns, but it’s darker now, edged with something that looks almost like madness. “You’re not a hero, Bryan. You’re just a killer who found a cause that let him pretend the blood on his hands was justified.”
He raises his hand, and the Cheslem wolves rush forward.
I call on my wolf and let the change rip through me. Bones snap and reform. Fur ripples across my skin. Then I’m on four legs and launching myself at the nearest enemy. My teeth find flesh. Hot blood floods my mouth.
The battle becomes chaos.
I lose track of time. I lose track of everything except the next threat, the next target, and the next wolf trying to kill me or the packmates fighting at my side.
Dylan appears on my left. His massive body tears through a Cheslem wolf twice his size.
Connor guards our flank with speed that belies his bulk.
Thomas and Nic fight back-to-back, their wolves moving in perfect synchronization.
We’re holding. Barely, but we’re holding.
Then I see Rafe.
He’s still in human form, standing at the edge of the fighting like a general watching his troops. Our eyes meet across the chaos, and something passes between us. A recognition of what this moment means for both of us.
I force my body back to human form and push through the crowd of fighting wolves until I’m standing ten feet from the man who took my mate.
“Just us now. No more games. Let’s finish this.”
Rafe strips off his jacket and tosses it aside. “I’ve been waiting ten years for this.”
We circle each other and look for openings. He’s younger than me and probably faster, but I’ve got experience and training he can’t match. The Black Ops didn’t just teach me how to kill. They taught me how to survive against opponents who should have beaten me.
Rafe strikes first. His combination is lightning-fast, and I barely manage to deflect it. His fist grazes my jaw, and stars explode across my vision. I counter with a knee to his ribs, and he grunts but doesn’t fall back.
“You know what I was thinking while my wolves had your mate locked in that cell?” He circles again, heaving. “I was thinking about all the things I could do to her. All the ways I could make her scream.”
I don’t take the bait. He wants me angry and sloppy. That’s how you beat a stronger opponent. You get inside their head.
I match his movements step for step as I reply, “She didn’t scream. She told me you threw a tantrum when I didn’t come fast enough. Apparently, you’re not as scary as you think.”
His next attack is wilder. I dodge the first punch and catch the second. I use his momentum to spin him off balance. My elbow connects with his temple. He staggers.
“Your father would be ashamed of you.” I press the advantage. “Matthias was a monster, but at least he knew how to fight.”
Rafe snarls and calls on his wolf. The change takes him mid-lunge. Suddenly, I’m facing a massive black wolf with yellow eyes and corruption crawling beneath his fur. He’s faster in this form. Stronger. The first swipe of his claws opens a gash across my chest that burns like fire.
I call on my own wolf and meet him head-on.
We crash together in a tangle of fur and teeth and claws. He’s stronger than I expected. The corruption gives him an edge that makes every hit land harder. His teeth tear through my shoulder. His claws rake across my flank.
But I’ve fought corrupted wolves before. I know their weaknesses.
They rely too much on brute force. They forget that fighting is about patience. About waiting for the right moment and striking when your opponent overextends.
Rafe lunges for my throat. I twist at the last second. His teeth close on empty air, and I drive him to the ground with my full weight and clamp my jaws around the back of his neck before he can recover.
All it would take is one bite, and it’d be over.
But something makes me pause.
Across the field, I see Skylar.
She’s kneeling beside a fallen pack member. Her hands are pressed against a wound I can’t see from this distance. Blood stains her clothes. Blood stains her face. She’s not running. She’s not hiding. She’s doing exactly what she promised. Staying behind the lines. Helping the wounded.
She’s fierce. She’s brave. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted.
If I tear Rafe’s throat out like the animal he thinks I am, I’ll prove him right. I’ll become exactly the monster he accused me of being.
I don’t want that anymore. Not when I have someone worth being better for.
I force myself back to human form while keeping Rafe pinned beneath me. He struggles, but the position gives me too much leverage. My arm wraps around his throat. I squeeze until he goes limp, until his body forces him back to human form, too.
“Yield.” I tighten my grip. “Your wolves are losing. Your plan failed. Yield, and maybe you’ll live to see another sunrise.”
He laughs. The sound is wet and broken. “You think I want to live?” Blood flecks his lips when he coughs. “Just do it. Kill me like you killed my brother.”
“I spent ten years being what you described. A killer with a cause.” I release his throat and stand, keeping one foot planted on his chest. “I’m not that person anymore.”
Rafe stares up at me. Confusion wars against hatred in his eyes. Then his hand moves faster than I can track. I see the glint of metal. A knife he must have hidden somewhere on his body. Silver-edged and aimed at my heart.
I react on instinct. My hand closes around his wrist and twists. I drive the blade away from my chest and into his own. The silver sinks between his ribs.
“No.” His eyes go wide. “This isn’t... I was supposed to...”
But he doesn’t finish. His body goes slack, and the hatred fades to nothing.
I stand over him, breathing hard. Around us, the battle is winding down. Cheslem wolves are surrendering or fleeing into the forest. Silvercreek’s fighters are letting them go.
Rafe is dead.
I thought I’d feel something more. Triumph, maybe. Instead, there’s just exhaustion and the hollow ache of violence finally coming to an end.
“Bryan!”
I turn toward the voice. Skylar is running across the field.
I open my arms. She crashes into me with enough force to make me stagger. Her arms wrap around my neck, and I pull her close and bury my face in her hair. Honeysuckle fills my lungs.
“It’s over,” I mumble against the nape of her neck. “It’s finally over.”
She pulls back, and her eyes search my body for damage. Her hands reach for the wound on my chest. “You’re hurt. Let me—”
I capture her mouth with mine. The kiss is desperate and relieved and full of everything I can’t put into words. She kisses me back with equal fervor, curling her fingers into my hair, her body melting against mine.
“I love you,” I tell her. “I should have said it years ago. I should have never left.”
She rests her forehead against mine and closes her eyes. “I know. I love you too.”