Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Dahlia and her trident
Dahlia was led up a long, snow-crusted driveway. White moonlight illuminated the signage above her.
Sterling Farm & Swinery
Elmwood
Est. 1683
Fang jumped and punched it on his way in, signaling his arrival with an ear-splitting bang. He walked a few steps ahead while Sylas kept so close it aggravated her. She rubbed her arms, gazing at the endless acreage blanketed in snow.
After what felt like a mile, a whitewashed brick home with a massive red barn attached to it came into view.
Dahlia loved farms, but didn’t particularly like it when farmers said things like love your animal friends then eat them.
However, that kind of butchery was nothing when compared to Fang’s methods—decapitating her father in one swift bite.
She gripped the fork in her pocket.
Fang had talked about biting off flesh and eating it for the entirety of their journey. When she’d asked why he was so hungry, he’d gone off on a thirty-minute tangent about werewolf hierarchy.
After the second round of his strange transfusion, he’d been nicer to her than ever before. And now she knew why—he wanted power. Fang believed he had what it took to be king. The only part about his rant she’d paid attention to was the bit about tonight’s battle being life or death.
She was counting on him to be the one who died.
The idea of him reigning over this territory, subjecting people to his brutality, was excruciating to think about.
Hundreds of werewolves stared at them upon their arrival. As layers upon layers of eyes scanned them, Dahlia quickly realized Fang was hated by almost everyone.
“Stay close,” sneered Sylas, tugging her next to him.
Fang had ordered him to contain her upon arriving.
Every time she strayed more than a meter away, he’d yank her back.
She was sick of going everywhere these werewolves went—they smelled like canned meat.
The small distance she’d been allowed to keep on the trek here had been her only respite in days.
The crowd of shifters parted as they reached the top of the driveway, revealing what looked like a boxing ring.
A square-shaped space had been shoveled out.
All the extra snow was packed to form thick walls.
No one appeared to have trouble seeing over the edge except her.
Werewolves were unusually tall, and she was rather short for her age.
One shifter stood in the center. In stark contrast with Fang’s dark features, this one seemed to glow.
Dressed for warmer weather, he wore a loose tunic and pants.
His hair was as white as snow and flecked with silver moonlight.
It whirled in the wind, which was odd since she didn’t feel a breeze.
His bronzed skin, multicolored eyes, and sharp fangs were glinting under the evening sky.
“I hope you’re ready to die tonight, Westley. I’m going to string your entrails along these fences like garland.” Fang’s warning quieted the crowd.
Dahlia cringed.
The opposing shifter didn’t respond. He exhaled a puff of air, briefly covering his features.
Fang gave Sylas a maniacal look before sprinting towards the ring and leaping over the wall of snow.
He shifted mid-air, his clothing withering to shreds.
He landed in his beast form, mouth open and dripping saliva.
She hardly saw the white wolf transform. It happened so quickly. He was massive as well, letting out a long howl.
A strawberry blonde shifter wearing a short cloak and ruffled dress climbed into the ring. She stood between the two snarling wolves, then held her arm straight up.
Every soul went silent.
She spoke, projecting her kind voice. “I welcome you all to the formal hierarchy battle between Westley Tate Sterling and James “Fang” Waters. The rules: no rounds, no compelling, and no silver allowed. This will be a clean fight, to the death. The winner claims the alpha title of both packs and all the wolves within them.” She backed up and out of the way before slicing her arm through the air. “May the best wolf win.”
A few shifters helped pull her out of the ring as the white wolf lunged for Fang. Dahlia had been biding her time, waiting for the perfect moment to make Sylas cry. She really hated him. With the other shifters distracted by the fight, her clock was ticking.
She eyed the enthralled crowd and gripped the fork in her pocket. Sylas, distracted by the fight, didn’t see her ready her silver weapon. Satisfaction surged through her as she launched the fork into his beady eye.
Dahlia had planned on stabbing and sprinting away as fast as she could, but when Sylas collapsed, she found herself dragging the spikes back and forth in his socket while he screamed for mercy.
“I hate you,” she ground out.
His claws took shape.
Nearby wolves closed in.
A gust of wind blew the hair away from her face.
If they weren’t sure who she was before, everyone just got a good look. She left the fork and ran. Fast. As quickly as her feet would allow, she skidded down the driveway, desperate to be anywhere but here.
Her heart sank as she was yanked to a screeching halt. A hand stronger than Sylas’ seized her upper arm, swiftly pulling her back around.
Dahlia had expected to find an army of shifters behind her, not one. She had dark blonde hair, almost-black eyes, and a not-so-nice look on her sharp face.
“Let me go,” Dahlia begged. “I need to go.”
“I think not.”
Why was a human on the property? And why had she stabbed Sylas? He was still moaning and rolling around the ground—it was pitiful. She’d given birth to seven wolves in one sitting.
Seven.
Mellie sighed.
She couldn’t let the girl leave after purposely harming a werewolf. Yes, Sylas was awful, but silver was a deadly weapon. If this little human was hired to infiltrate her pack and stab out their eyeballs one by one, Mellie was going to find out.
She walked her back up the driveway. “What do you think you’re doing here?”
“Excuse me? I was dragged here.”
A bold tone for a child.
West’s snarl caught Mellie’s attention. She glanced at the arena, saw both wolves catching their breaths and side-stepping, so she turned back to the girl. “Dragged? By whom?”
“Fang.”
Fang ate the humans he hunted, he didn’t keep them. “For what purpose? Speak quickly, or I ask Sylas.”
“My father … he was a doctor, but Fang killed him and Sylas took me. I have to make Fang his medicine or he’ll kill me too.” She nodded towards the arena. “It’s supposed to help him win this fight.”
Mellie froze, her mouth going dry.
Took her?
Medicine?
Help him win?
What was she hearing? Nobody had mentioned anything to her about Fang being medicated. If West had known about this and didn’t—
She scoffed. He probably did know, and hadn’t told anyone. Typical. Did he also know the human Fang and Sylas took was a mere child? If the wind hadn’t flashed her youthful features, Mellie would’ve bitten first and asked questions later.
The small girl’s light eyes watered. “Please, you need to let me run away.”
“No,” Mellie seethed, needing the other half of the story. “You’re coming with me.” She pulled her right back to Sylas on the blood splattered ground, who’d continued to weep. The fork lay beside him. Briefly, she considered shoving it back in.
“Sylas,” she snapped.
“What,” he cried, cupping his face.
“Is this your human?”
He squinted through his remaining eye and smiled eerily. “Yes. Thank you, Mellie, I always liked you.” He gnashed his teeth at the girl. “You’re going to pay for this.”
So it was true—he took this child. She crouched down to face the mortal and whispered, “What’s your name?”
“Dahlia.”
Mellie kept her voice low. “Dahlia, Sylas has just admitted to kidnapping you, which means no formal sanction for his death will be required, and there’s nothing to dispute.
Our alpha is busy at the moment. His second has duties as well.
So as his next of kin, I will gladly take care of this problem.
” There were many perks to being West’s sister, one of which was power.
“Would you prefer to watch as I kill Sylas, or turn around?”
The girl's eyebrows rose. She started to turn away, then appeared to change her mind. “Go ahead,” she said.
Mellie flung her cloak off and shoved it into Dahlia’s hands.
“Hold this.” She shook off years of pain, tears, and heartache.
Skin that longed for Xavier’s touch shifted into fur that would kill in his honor.
He’d never put up with this behavior. His cousin Fang was out of control and Sylas had grown insane. Taking a child was the very last straw.
Sylas cursed, getting to his hands and knees. “No, Mellie. This isn’t my human. I swear it.”
So pitiful.
While her brother worked on putting an end to Fang, she’d take care of his accomplice.
Her teeth and joints popped simultaneously, transforming into their beastly shape.
She landed on all fours and met Sylas before he finished his shift.
He was weak, slow, and underweight. His head was still in his human form by the time she bit it off.
The crunching of bones, snapping of arteries, and blowing of his windpipe between her canines felt extremely cathartic.
His head rolled all the way to Dahlia’s feet.
She took off screaming.
Mellie spit out remnants of flesh and blood, used her snout to snatch her ditched cloak, and chased after the girl.
This human was also weak, slow, and underweight.
Rather than dashing alongside her, it was easier to leap overhead and land in her path.
Mellie grunted on impact. Rising on her hind legs, she spun faster than the wind and changed back into her human form.
Dahlia was holding her hands over her eyes while Mellie threw her cloak on. “Why were children so keen on running away?” She couldn’t help but have flashbacks of spraining her leg while chasing after her own.
“I’m not a child, I’m sixteen! And if you think kidnapping is a crime, you should let me leave!”
“Be careful who you yell at, I’m trying to help you.”
“Why?” Dahlia asked, brows knitting.
Mellie smiled faintly, dropping to one knee. Maybe if she was the same height as the small human, it would help her feel more comfortable. “Do you even know where you’re going?”
Dahlia's face crumpled as tears began to form. “No,” she whispered.
Children shouldn’t suffer like this. Mellie met the girl’s eyes, trying to convey sincerity. “This farm is big, Dahlia. You’re welcome to stay until you figure something out. But if you truly want to leave, I won’t stop you.”
“You just beheaded someone. Why would I stay here?”
“Listen …” Mellie wiped some blood off her face, then softened her expression. “We don’t hurt humans. At least, not the innocent ones. I’m sorry you were treated so poorly. I won’t let it happen again.”
“But what if Fang wins? He’ll find me. He’ll keep me.” Panic laced her tone.
“He won’t win.” Mellie didn’t usually tempt fate on battle nights, though this was an exceptional circumstance.
Dahlia shivered and rubbed her arms. “Then I’ll stay. But only for a little while.”
Mellie stood. “Good. In the meantime, you should keep away from this fight. How would you like to see some pigs? They’re going to need some company while their caretaker is sick.”
Dahlia beamed, her eyes brighter than they’d been since Mellie had found her. “I’d love to.”
“And there’s plenty of chickens. Do you like to gather eggs?”
“Very much.”
After escorting Dahlia to the barn and hearing her squeal louder than the piglets, Mellie was overcome with sadness. Fang was a monster for stealing this child’s joy.