Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
The full moon hung heavy above Devils Point, lighting the island from every angle.
Ryker burst through the door, phone pressed to his ear, his usual calm shattered. "This is it. Boats were spotted coming from the mainland. Suspected hunters. Looks like five of them, and they are coming in fast."
Gray's canines lengthened before he could stop them, sharp enough to cut his own lip. Five. It was unfolding like a carbon copy of the night Ash was killed. Professional hunters sneaking towards the island in fast boats, all armed to the teeth with guns and silver bullets.
His wolf ripped against his control, demanding blood for every threat to his mate. Beside him, Lily swayed on her feet, and he caught her around her waist.
Despite everything, her scent made his blood run hot. Lavender from the herbs she always carried. That wild spring rain smell of her magic. And underneath it all, the musk of their mating, his scent mixed with hers in a way that proclaimed to everyone on the island that she belonged to him.
"How long?" His voice came out distorted by the fangs he couldn't retract.
"Twenty minutes, maybe less."
Ryker's radio erupted with overlapping voices—pack members herding tourists, chaos bleeding through every transmission.
"—need two more at the bridge. There’s a fight breaking out—"
"—kid's having a panic attack—"
"—another refusing to leave—"
Gray's tactical mind ran the numbers while his thumb traced circles on Lily's hip, feeling her shudder. Every touch sparked threads he could almost see, pulling tight between their bodies.
Nearly all of his pack was scattered across the island, moving humans to safety.
Thirteen powerful witches had formed a ritual circle.
At least twenty hunters approaching by water.
And his mate—fuck, his mate—standing through sheer stubbornness, her magical core nearly empty from fighting the summoning that tried to drag her to her coven.
"We can't fight on two fronts," Shaw said, stating the obvious with his usual blunt practicality. "Not with the pack divided like this."
"Then we don't fight both."
Lily's voice came out steady despite everything, that stubborn strength that made him want to shake her and kiss her in equal measure.
She pushed away from his support, standing on her own, though he spied her legs trembling.
Losing her warmth made him growl low in his throat, a sound that had Calix and Fen stepping back.
"I know a way to stop the hunters."
"Lily—"
"My grandmother taught me a ward. Old magic from before the covens formed, before they decided individual power was dangerous.
" She met his eyes, and he saw the price written in the tightness around her mouth, in how her fingers fumbled as she pushed her hair from her face.
"It'll create a barrier at the shore and keep the boats from landing.
Give the pack time to finish the evacuation without interference. "
"What's the cost?"
Her face already told him everything. The same look she'd had when she tried to run earlier tonight. She was willing to sacrifice herself for others. Ready to burn herself to ash if it meant keeping his pack safe.
She bit her lip, that same lower lip where the faint mark of his teeth still lingered. "Everything I have left. And Gray—" Her voice caught. "This only works once. If anything else goes wrong..."
She didn't need to finish. They both knew what would happen.
“I don’t like it. It’s too dangerous,” he said.
"Gray—"
"No.” He stopped her before she could continue. “It’s too much."
The word came out more growl than speech. His muscles coiled, wolf and man in perfect agreement for once. He'd throw her over his shoulder and lock her in his apartment before he let her destroy herself.
"The pack is your family, Gray. Let me do this for them. For you."
"You're my family too."
The truth of it burned between them, the mating connection flaring hot enough that she gasped, her pupils dilating.
Her pulse raced, loud in his sensitive ears.
He also felt her body respond to his claim while her mind stayed focused on sacrifice.
The contradiction made him want to press her against the nearest wall and remind her who she belonged to, make her forget any thought of this reckless plan.
"Then come with me," she said. "Don't let me do this alone."
Goddess. She was half-dead on her feet, planning something that might hurt her, she knew exactly how to gut him. Because he would never let her face danger alone when every instinct screamed to keep her at his side.
He turned to Ryker, not trusting himself to look at her while he made the choice. "Hold the distillery. Radio if the coven moves one fucking step closer."
"Boss, you need backup—"
"Shaw, Cal, Fen—you're with me. Ryker, hold this position. That's an order."
Ryker's jaw clenched, but he nodded.
They pushed through the cool darkness, Lily leaning heavy against his side.
Each stumbling step pressed her body closer.
The soft curve of her breast against his ribs, her hip bumping his, her hair brushing his jaw.
He hated himself for noticing, for wanting, with danger lurking too close to her.
But the full moon overhead amplified every sensation until he could think of nothing but claiming her again, properly this time, with the bite that would seal their bond forever.
The forest pressed close around them, autumn leaves crunching underfoot, too loud in the tense silence.
She gathered what she needed with shaking but determined hands. An apple branch from one of the festival orchards, the wood cracking like bone when she broke it. He watched her fingers, the same ones that had scraped down his back, now moving with careful purpose despite their trembling.
At the tidal pools, she knelt to gather salt water, gasping at the cold. That gasp went straight to his cock. It was too similar to the sound she'd made when he'd first pushed inside her. He turned away, scanning the forest, trying to focus on threats instead of moonlight catching in her hair.
"Cranberries," she murmured, moving to the bog they'd passed earlier that day.
After she grabbed a few, she crushed the berries between her palms, juice staining her fingers red.
"One more thing." She held out her palm, steady despite everything. No fear in those eyes, just determination that made his chest ache.
He drew his knife, the blade catching moonlight.
He'd cleaned it earlier, but he could swear it held her scent from when she'd watched him handle it this morning—her pupils dilating.
Now, those hands shook as he pressed the blade to her skin, fighting every instinct that screamed at him not to hurt her.
Blood welled, darker than the cranberry stains, and his wolf went wild.
That scent—copper and magic and mate. It made him want to howl.
Made him want to lick the wound clean, taste her power on his tongue, heal her with his mouth.
His protective instincts warred with darker needs, the moon making everything sharper, more primal.
"Earth, water, wood, and blood," she explained, her voice rough, but steady. Bleeding and planning to drain herself dry, she needed him to understand. "The four anchors. My grandmother said they're what ties the ward to this realm. Without all four, the magic disperses. With them..."
"With them?"
"Yes. With them, the ward becomes part of the island itself. At least temporarily."
They reached the rocky shore with boat engines audible across the water, distant but getting louder with every heartbeat.
Gray positioned his wolves with quick efficiency.
Shaw watched the forest path they'd come from. Calix and Fen scanned the water for approach patterns. There weren’t enough of them, but it would have to work.
Lily knelt at the shoreline where water met stone, her jeans soaking through.
The position—on her knees, hair falling loose from her braid to curtain her face—sent his mind straight back to the garage.
To her bent over the car hood, rain-soaked and desperate, the way she'd gasped his name when he'd pushed inside her.
Focus, Moore. She needs you present, not lost in memories.
She began to chant.
The words sounded older than language. Like wind through ancient stone, and roots cracking concrete after centuries of pressure, like the earth itself groaning awake.
Each syllable vibrated through him, making his skin feel too tight and the mate bond between them sing like struck metal.
The air grew thick, charged with potential energy that made his wolf pace.
Her magic flowed out, not a gentle stream but a violent extraction, as if something was tearing pieces from her and throwing them into the void. Her shoulders shook with the effort, but the chanting never stopped.
Green light sparked from her hands, not the sickly green of the coven's magic but something deeper.
Forest and jade and emerald swirling together as power crawled across the ground in living vines.
Where it passed, rocks steamed and cracked.
The air went thick and that spring rain scent that was purely her, concentrated until breathing became difficult through the sheer amount of magic swirling around them.
Blood ran from her nose.
"Lily, you have to stop."
She kept chanting, pushing power into the ward. Her voice grew rougher with each word, damaged from the effort. Each ragged syllable made his protective instincts scream to intervene.