CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
The sound stops me cold—Iris's voice rising in pain. I spin around, my heart lurching as I spot Jax gripping her by the throat, his fingers digging into her pale skin. Her green eyes are wide with terror, her hands clawing uselessly at his arm.
"No!" The word tears from my chest as I try to rush forward, but several Jax warriors step into my path, blocking my way. Their faces are blank, emotionless—soldiers following orders without question.
I don't hesitate. My wolf surges forward, and I feel my claws extend as I launch myself at the first warrior.
My enhanced strength sends him flying backward, his throat torn open before he hits the ground.
The second swings at me with brutal force, but I'm already moving with werewolf speed, ducking under his strike and raking my claws across his chest.
Time slows to a crawl as I fight desperately, tearing through them one by one. Each second feels like an eternity while Iris struggles in Jax's grip. Her face is turning pale, her movements growing weaker.
Faster. The thought screams through my mind as I dodge another attack, my claws finding the warrior's ribs. Move faster.
But there are too many of them, and they keep coming. By the time I finally break through their line, my chest heaving and my hands slick with blood, it's already too late.
Iris lies crumpled on the ground, a dark pool spreading beneath her. Her throat... God, her throat is torn open, ragged and bleeding. But her chest still rises and falls in shallow, desperate gasps. Her bright green eyes flutter, unfocused but still holding that spark of life.
"No, no, no." I drop to my knees beside her, gathering her into my arms. Her body is warm but trembling, blood seeping from the wound too fast. "Iris, stay with me. Please."
My hands press against her throat, trying to stem the bleeding. Her blood seeps between my fingers, staining everything crimson. She's so pale, so fragile—her life slipping away with each labored breath.
"Someone get a healer!" I scream, my voice breaking. "Please, I need a healer now!"
Iris's lips move, trying to form words, but only a wet whisper emerges. Her eyes find mine, filled with pain and fear. She's dying in my arms, and there's nothing I can do to stop it.
The world tilts around me, reality shifting like sand beneath my feet. Kind, gentle Iris who welcomed me like a sister, who made me feel like I belonged somewhere for the first time in years—she's dying because of me.
"Ah, Aubrey." Jax's voice cuts through my grief like a blade. "I was hoping you'd see this."
I look up to find him standing nearby, that triumphant smile stretching across his face. No remorse, no regret—just satisfaction at a job well done. He extends his hand toward me, as if expecting me to take it.
Disgust rises in my throat like bile. This man who raised me, who claimed to save me—he just tore open an innocent woman's throat to make a point. Without hesitation, I slap his hand away.
"Stay away from me," I snarl, launching myself at him with furious abandon.
But Jax is ready. He blocks my claws with his forearm, the impact sending shockwaves up my arms. When he counters, his fist connects with my ribs, sending pain exploding through my chest. His own wolf strength matches mine, maybe exceeds it.
"Still so emotional," he says, almost sadly. "I thought I'd trained that weakness out of you."
I keep attacking, my claws seeking any opening, but he's too skilled. Each strike I land, he returns twice as hard. We clash with supernatural speed and strength, my desperation against his cold calculation.
That's when it happens. As we grapple and our enhanced senses heighten, something shifts in my mind. The barriers I built to protect myself crack open, and memory floods back like a dam bursting.
That night.
I'm thirteen again, hiding in the shadows of our pack house. But this time, I don't see masked attackers or faceless enemies. I see a face I know. A face I trust.
My father lies in a pool of his own blood, his eyes wide with shock and betrayal. And standing over him, his claws still extended and dripping crimson, is Jax.
Not some unknown enemy. Not raiders or rogues.
Jax.
My savior. My mentor. My father's murderer.
The shock hits me like a physical blow, stealing the air from my lungs. Everything I believed, everything I thought I knew—it's all been a lie. The man who claimed to rescue me from that massacre was the one who orchestrated it.
The revelation is too much. The weight of it crushes down on me, and darkness swallows me whole. My consciousness slips away as I collapse, the truth finally too heavy to bear.
He killed them all.