Chapter 24 Silas
"Three-ten, three-eleven, three-twelve…" Lily whispers, eyes closed. She tracks the seconds since the last footsteps faded at the top of the stairwell. When she gets to three-fifty, "Okay, go."
I step back and strip down. My wolf claws to the surface, his coat emerging through my skin. My face elongates into a muzzle, my teeth lengthening.
We're a mess. Scars streak our pelt like lashings, patches of fur missing from old and new injuries. But the relief of shifting after so long—it's blinding. Like bathing in a cool stream after walking through fire. Like tasting food when you're starving.
Like scenting my omega, my mate, for the first time, after years of pain and isolation.
The release slams through us. My wolf shudders, lands on all fours, shaking out each limb, as our joints pop in satisfaction. He stretches, spine arching, like he's waking from centuries of sleep.
I couldn't shift even a month ago. I tried and tried for years. But I can now. I'm not sure what's changed. Doesn't matter because I'm almost free.
My wolf surges, raging and eager. His alpha energy pulses, and I have to work to tamp it down, to keep him quiet. The effort is worth it though, to feel the power bubble inside us. We're nearly back to the force we once were.
Not quite. With Lily's help…
"You have ten minutes. I'll keep counting. Don't distract me."
Lily may be a delta, but locked in this cage with me, going through what she has these last few months, she's found a backbone I suspect she never had when addressing an alpha before. Plus, it's not like I've given her much time to adapt.
She was terrified of me at first—rightfully—but we've found our way, carving a path out of this hellhole, and come hell or high fucking water, we're getting out of here.
Lily keeps her eyes closed and concentrates. If I hear someone coming, I'll shift back. But to be on the safe side, I only shift for ten minutes at a time, by Lily's count.
It's like stretching an unused muscle. Feels so fucking good, but it's brutal. Like we're atrophied, a little shaky, on the weak side. But stronger by the minute.
My wolf breathes deeply, sucking in hungry breaths, piecing out particles of information, compiling for a future battle plan. He isolates every scent in this room. The blood, the sweat. Dirt on the floor. Dusty, impenetrable stone walls. Body odor. Lily's dried cum.
Then beyond.
Up the stairs, through the network of halls I once roamed freely. I follow the trail all the way to the kitchen. Pierre and Deidre scheming, Stephen and Caren, a few of the other witches in the coven hovering close.
I catch Mona's name on Pierre's filthy lips. I concentrate and listen carefully, letting his words filter in.
"We'll need to find another way to get to her. Now that she's in Silent Peak, it'll be near impossible to steal her."
"Everyone has a weakness. Even that meathead Grayson," Deidre mutters softly. It's deceptive. I know it, and the other witches know it, too. Deidre is never soft. She's furious I've failed to impregnate Lily. Even more so, that Mona isn't here in her place.
She continues shit-talking in that polished way of hers. Caren coos and praises Deidre's infinite wisdom while Stephen fawns and agrees with every word she says. In the end, it sounds as though they still don't have a solid plan of how to get to Mona.
"I'll keep looking," Pierre sighs. "In the meantime, I have a plan that could get us past their borders."
My wolf takes a deep inhale, exhaling worry like stones falling off our back.
Frustration mingles with relief.
She made it. She's with my brother.
Her fate has haunted me. There's nothing more I could have done for her, there was no time, no good options. I made the only choice I could back then. I brought her close enough to death to force her wolf out of hiding to save them both.
I know she despises me. The way she looked at me when I stood over her, blood dripping from my teeth—like I was death himself. I can still feel her terror sliver through my skin.
It's okay if she hates me. Better scared and alive, and it worked.
She's safe.
I can't fucking believe it, and I didn't realize how much tension I was holding, not knowing. For once, finally, some good fucking news.
I listen in and catch more snippets of conversation.
They're regrouping, deciding how to infiltrate Silent Peak.
Worry gnaws at me—and jealousy, that Gray and Mona are together—but I stuff it down like everything else.
My brother might be a prick, but he's a militant prick. He'll keep his mate safe.
I'll need to listen in more often while they come up with more detailed plans.
For now, I pluck through their scents like threads of a sweater, taking my time to unravel and commit it all to memory. Tracy is here, I note in surprise. Deidre's half-sister.
They hide their relationship—most of the coven doesn't even know they're related. I know because it's easy to scent.
Sometimes I swear Deidre's forgotten what I am.
Forgotten that it took seventeen of her coven to take me down. She targeted me because of my alpha power. Knowing I was always at odds with my clan, with my brother, put the odds in her favor of eventually getting me alone.
But I wasn't an easy target.
It's been so long since she's felt my true power, she's forgotten who I really am. She's going to remember, soon.
I'm not sure what to think of Tracy's presence. She's not a member of this coven. She's a seer, less skilled in practical magic, and doesn't come around often.
Our escape plan is cobbled together. What we don't need is Tracy unearthing it and fucking things up for us. I glance at Lily.
I won't share the news I overheard. I don't need her falling apart, not now.
And so, my wolf practices. He scents, he listens. He stretches. He fucking basks, and the relief is so real, so palpable, I feel better than I have in years. Stronger. More like myself.
I'm almost ready.
"Nine," Lily says out loud, before her lips go back to wordless whispers, counting up. It's been nine minutes.
Not nearly enough. And I don't hear anyone coming. My wolf urges me to wait, to give him more time.
We can't chance it. We have one shot at this. If they catch us…
I sense his reluctant agreement.
And when Lily says "Ten," we shift back.
Naked and panting on all fours, I listen for any movement.
When I hear none, I get dressed in my filthy clothes.
Bathroom breaks are monitored, and I've been shaving my head with a blade.
It goes to show how much they think they've broken me, that Pierre hands me a fucking blade.
I convinced Deidre to give Lily clothes and a blanket a while back, but that's it, aside from Pierre's periodic visits with raw steak and water bottles.
Not nearly enough sustenance for one shifter, let alone two.
I had to remind Deidre she is, after all, hoping to get the little delta pregnant, and a little comfort and extra food would help her master plan.
She has no proof I'm not fucking Lily, she just assumes I wouldn't be able to resist a naked woman in heat.
"Let's go over the plan again," Lily whispers.
It's unnecessary, but it makes her feel better, and while I'm not normally one to accommodate another's feelings, in this instance, I relent. I need her as much as she needs me.
"Your shifter power—it's really coming back?"
I nod. Since I've been able to shift again, my senses are increasing, too.
If I listen carefully, I can hear a crow foraging outside these walls. A mouse's heartbeat, on the other side of the stone at our backs. He scurries, hunting for food. Minute details I couldn't parcel out before. It's all becoming so clear.
I hadn't realized how much my senses had dulled over the years. I flex my hand, almost feeling my wolf's claws beneath the skin, ready to break free at a moment's notice. Years of dormancy, shedding like a molting snake.
"When they prepare for the next full moon, we'll escape before they circle. Are you sure about this plan?" Lily asks anxiously. She's skeletal now, skin stretched over bone, hollowed out by near-starvation and the magically induced heat they keep putting her through.
I've spent entire nights fighting her off as she claws at me, at herself, begging for relief. It's impossible to give her privacy while she gets herself off, writhing on the hard ground, screaming, crying in pain and pleasure.
When she came out of her first spelled-heat, she claimed the pain was bearable and thanked me for not touching her.
A lie, I'm sure, but I was too relieved to call her on it.
But it's draining her. I don't know what it's doing to her long-term. Maybe nothing. But her scent is changing. My wolf can sense it. She's still a delta…
Yet, not…
Neither of us has the luxury of energy to dwell on it, and while I'm sure she knows something about her is changing, she hasn't asked me about it either.
Not sure what the fuck I'd tell her.
I tilt an ear toward the main floor, above the prison cell. "I'm sure. It's the only time they'll separate."
"So close to the full moon, though. They're at their most powerful—"
"We'll disrupt them before they circle. Trust me. I've been listening to their coven gather at the moon for years. The lower witches prepare the circle. Pierre supervises. Deidre waits in her room until the moon is highest in the sky. Pierre comes in to get her. That's when we strike."
"You really think I'm strong enough to fight Deidre?" Lily asks shakily. Her eyes are wide and dark, and for a moment, she looks like a child, doll-like in her fragility.