41. Cash
Cash
What the ever-loving fuck was I doing?
Aleks had taken off on two legs, but that seemed to be Viktor’s preference too. Maybe that was how they’d trained, but I’d stood there on Katya’s porch, unsure what to do. Nobody needed my input. Aleks certainly didn’t need me to speak for him, but I wasn’t a fighter either.
Fuck, I wasn’t meant for any of this. I was just supposed to build things.
I stood there, stunned and second-guessing myself long enough for Evie to stick her head out of her and Pa’s place.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
My breath hissed through my teeth. “Witches.”
The same witches that Viktor said left their scent all over Aleks. My Aleks.
That decided it for me: It didn’t matter if I was a fighter or not. There were some things I was willing to fight for, and the spark of hope that flickered in my chest? I was going to protect that.
I shrugged out of the shirt I’d just dragged back on. “Stay here with Pa.”
Evie frowned at me. It took her a moment, and she didn’t like it, but when she nodded, shifting finally felt safe. I unbuttoned my jeans and ran out of them on all fours, making my way fast toward the old center of our small community.
The head witch was making threats toward Aleks when I felt it, the whole world snapping into place. Bonds sprang to life that I never knew had existed before, and there was Aleks at the center of it all, shining like the sun.
She wouldn’t take him from us.
I rushed into the center square. The head witch was snarling, the words muddled in my mind. I didn’t know if that was because human communication went a little off on four legs, or if she wasn’t speaking English anymore.
It didn’t matter, because her intent was clear, the jerks of her hands and fingers complicated and threatening.
Then a wave of magic erupted from her, shooting like an arrow straight for Aleks.
I yowled, too far to do anything in the split second I had.
But there was Viktor, attentive as always, ready for any kind of trouble. He leapt in front of Aleks.
The spell hit his chest, and he staggered, crumpling back in Aleks’s arms as his brother made a pitiful sound and knelt on the ground beside him.
My heart spasmed, but I knew if I stopped, if I let the witches get away with that one hit, they’d just keep coming for us.
Snarling like a feral dog, I threw myself between my alpha, my Aleks, and the witches. The fur around my shoulders bunched up and stood on end as I crouched and stalked toward them.
Some of the witches started trying to cast, but they weren’t fast, and the majority stood there, gaping, like they’d never imagined being challenged before, much less by us.
But I knew what happened to mages when werewolves bit them—most of the time, our innate magic fought with the kind they’d cultivated throughout their lives.
One won out over the other. They lost their own magic, or they died.
Presumably, it’d be the same for witches. As far as I could tell, there wasn’t much difference between them and mages other than the way they approached practice, not that I was an expert.
It was only Dakota who’d been lucky. Only Dakota who was a walking miracle. It was why they’d wanted him, and why they hadn’t ever asked Aleks to bite any of them. They weren’t willing to risk their own lives for the transformation.
With a deep growl, I leapt. My fangs snapped at the nearest witch.
She screeched, throwing out her hand.
A wave of magic sent me sliding back, claws dragging through the dirt. It flew up around my paws, but I didn’t go far. The witch didn’t send me flying through the air. I dug in, and the second I stopped moving, the muscles in my back legs bunched and I threw myself through the air again.
The witch screamed, and it was all she could do to sprint back to her shiny SUV, throw herself into the back seat, and slam the door behind her.
I wasn’t out here trying to kill anybody, but if a witch cared more about flinging spells at my pack than keeping their damn hands and their damn magic to themselves, that wasn’t my problem.
Snarling, I raked my claws across the shiny black paint, ruining it before turning toward the rest of the witches.
There were more wolves now. I recognized Katya and Janice and Evie—of course she hadn’t listened to me. She was small and black and fast as lightning. Even Uncle Tommy had shifted.
I stared, struck, because I wasn’t alone in this. The pack rose around me. We protected each other.
The very principle of it changed the part of me that had always felt like an outsider in Wildwood.
We were defending our pack, all together, and not just those of us who’d most obviously be fighters.
We were all willing to protect what was ours, and if it took all I had, I’d drive these witches away from my pack.
The head witch sneered, her lips twisting in an ugly way until her son shoved her arm. “Go!” he shouted, fear in his eyes, choking his words. He, at least, wasn’t willing to stick around and see what happened when one of us got our fangs in him.
Her eyes settled on Viktor on the ground, Aleks holding him up with a hand around his shoulders, looking pale and terrified.
The satisfaction that crossed her features then twisted my stomach. Something was wrong.
Viktor had to be okay.
But she left, the rest of the witches piling into their cars too, and Evie threw her head back and howled. The feeling of pack raced through me, and I echoed the sound. It played in my head from a dozen different voices.
I’d never felt anything like this in my life. It was heady, actually being a part of something.
But right then, one of our own was in danger.
I padded over to Aleks’s side and caught the ozone scent around Viktor.
“I’m fine,” he insisted to Aleks. His gaze flicked toward me. “I’m fine.”
I didn’t think there was a universe in which Viktor would admit he was anything but fine, but his heart was beating steadily, if a little fast.
The scent on him could just be residual magic, and it hadn’t affected him because . . . I didn’t fucking know why. Magic and werewolves went funny together.
There was a reason there was only one Dakota Morris. One witchwolf.
With a whine, I bumped my snout against Aleks’s hip.
Whatever had happened, I didn’t like this.