Chapter 17
ELIZA
We make it back to Clifftop House just as dawn breaks over the eastern shore. None of us have slept. How could we, when Connor's bloody message is still carved into the standing stones, when six seals are broken, when I'm the final target?
Declan hasn't let go of my hand since we left the village.
I feel everything—his exhaustion, his rage, his bone-deep concern at the thought of losing me.
The Storm Alpha who can call lightning and become the living storm itself is afraid.
Not of Connor. Not of the Fomori. Of failing to protect his mate.
"We need a plan." Jax is still covered in dried blood from the dock battle, his grey eyes hard as flint. "Connor's proven he can hit us anywhere, anytime. He's got resources we didn't account for."
"Mercenary packs." Rafe nurses a nasty gash across his ribs, but he refused medical attention until everyone else was seen to. "Professional killers with no loyalty to the island. Just gold and bloodshed."
Kian limps in from the kitchen, supported by Tessa. The attack left him with a broken leg and cracked ribs, but he's alive. Despite he, Grayson and Rafe’s best efforts and valiant fighting, the last three seals Connor needed fell. All that’s left is the seventh seal and Eliza.
"Don't." Declan's voice is quiet but firm. "You held them as long as you could. We all did."
"Not long enough." Kian's voice cracks. "People died today. Good people and that bastard Connor has six seals."
The room falls silent. That's the reality we're facing. Not just political maneuvering or pack disputes. Connor is murdering innocents to release an ancient evil, and he's willing to destroy anyone who stands in his way.
Including me.
"He'll come for Eliza next." Finn looks like he's aged ten years overnight. "She's the keystone. Storm blood, mate bond, the most powerful convergence point. Her death completes the ritual."
"Then we hide her." Tessa's fingers fly across her laptop. "Get her off the island. Mainland, somewhere Connor can't reach...”
"No." My voice cuts through the discussion. Everyone turns. "Running won't stop this. Connor will just start killing people until I come back. You know he will."
Declan's hand tightens on mine. His wolf howls through our connection, raw denial bleeding into me.
"Eliza...”
"He's already proven he'll murder children." I meet those storm-grey eyes steadily. "How many innocent people die while I hide? How long before he finds me anyway? This ends when we end it. When we stop him."
"She's right." Grayson's deep voice rumbles from the doorway.
He's heavily bandaged from the western cove battle, moving slowly, but alive.
Finn got him out before Connor's wolves could finish the job.
"Connor's backed us into a corner. We fight, or we surrender the island to him and whatever he's trying to unleash. "
My phone buzzes on the table. Unknown number. A chill works through my core even before I open it.
A video file. My hands shake as I press play.
Connor's face fills the screen, his handsome features twisted with something manic and certain. Behind him, I can see the standing stones in the pre-dawn light. The carved message still visible.
"Eliza Warren." His smile is all wrong. "I have to admit, you've been more trouble than I expected. But it ends tonight."
He steps aside. The camera pans slowly, deliberately, showing each hostage in turn.
Eight people bound and kneeling. My chest tightens with each face I recognize.
Thomas Macintosh, who runs the bookshop where I spent some time researching island folklore.
His face is bruised, one eye swollen shut.
Margaret Donnelly from the bakery, who smiled at me each time I stopped in and sometimes slipped an extra scone into my bag.
She's crying silently, her shoulders shaking.
Peter Harrow who captains the ferry and told me stories about the selkies. Blood runs from a cut on his temple.
The fish monger’s wife, Elspeth. Gerry, the taxi driver who drove me from the ferry that first day. A teenage girl I've seen working at the pub. Two fishermen whose names I don't know but whose faces I recognize from the docks.
Real people. Innocent people. People who smiled at me, helped me, welcomed me to this island.
Now bound and terrified because Connor wants to force my hand.
"Meet me at the standing stones at sunset. You, Declan, and whoever else wants to die trying to stop the inevitable. Come fight me properly, or I start killing these good people. One per hour. Starting as soon as the sun goes down."
The video cuts off.
I stare at the blank screen, my hands trembling. Declan's fury spikes through the bond, then carefully banks as he tries not to overwhelm me with his emotions.
"He's insane." Tessa's face has gone pale. "He's completely lost his mind."
"No." I shake my head even though my heart is racing. "He's desperate. Six seals broken means he's close, but not there yet. He needs my death at the convergence point to finish it. He's forcing the confrontation before we can regroup."
"Then we don't go." Jax's voice is cold. "We find those hostages, extract them, take the fight on our terms...”
"We don't have time." Rafe pulls up a map on his laptop. "We may know where the hostages were, but Connor knows that and will be prepared."
Declan hasn't spoken. He's staring at the phone screen, his jaw clenched so tight I can see the muscle jumping. Fury crashes against me like waves against a cliff. Not at me. At Connor. At his own perceived helplessness.
"We go." His voice is barely above a whisper. "But we go prepared. We call in every favor, every ally, every shifter who's ever owed us anything. If Connor wants a battle at the stones, we'll give him one he won't forget."
"Agreed." Rafe straightens despite his injury. "I'll reach out to the northern clans. Some of them owe me."
"I'll handle the western clans." Grayson rolls his shoulders, testing his injuries. "Connor burned those bridges when he ordered the attack on their people."
Tessa's already typing furiously. "I'm sending messages to every contact we have. This isn't just about our pack anymore. This is about the entire island."
They scatter. Phones out, voices urgent, reaching out to everyone they know.
Declan pulls me aside into the kitchen. Away from the others. His hands cup my face, and his eyes are raw.
"I can't lose you." His voice breaks. "Eliza, I just found you. We just...” He stops, swallows hard. "If something happens to you because of this, because of me and my pack and this cursed island...”
"Stop." I cover his hands with mine. "This isn't your fault. None of this is your fault. Connor made his choices. We're making ours."
"My choice is you." He leans his forehead against mine. "Always you. Over the pack, over the island, over everything. If it came down to it...”
"It won't." I kiss him gently, then pull back to meet his eyes. "Because we're not choosing. We're going to stop him together. You, me, our pack and all the others who stand against what he's trying to do."
I sense his wolf pacing, agitated. Protective. Distraught in a way that the human Declan would never admit aloud. The Storm Alpha who can call lightning and command the weather is concerned. Not for himself. For me.
"I've never had this much to lose," he admits quietly, confirming what I'm feeling. "Not in any battle, not facing any threat. But the thought of Connor getting his hands on you, of having to watch you die..." His voice cracks completely. "Eliza, I can't. I can't do that."
"You won't have to." I press my palm flat against his chest, feeling his heart racing beneath my hand. "I'm not some fragile thing that needs to be locked away. I'm your mate. Your equal. And I'm going to fight beside you because that's what we do. That's what mates do."
"I know." He catches my hand, brings it to his lips.
"I know. And that concerns me even more.
Because you will fight beside me. You'll put yourself in danger for these people, for this island, for me.
And I love you for it, even as every instinct I have screams to throw you over my shoulder and run until we're so far away Connor can never touch you. "
"But you won't do that."
"No." His smile is sad. "Because you'd never forgive me. And because you're right. Running doesn't stop this. It just delays it while innocent people die."
I pull him down for another kiss, this one deeper, more desperate. Trying to memorize the taste of him, the feel of his arms around me, the warmth of his body against mine. Just in case. Just in case this is the last quiet moment we get.
When we break apart, his eyes are storm-grey and intense. "When this is over," he says, "when Connor's stopped and the threat is gone, I'm taking you away for a week. Just us. No pack, no politics, no ancient evils. Just you and me."
"A whole week of you? I don't know if I can handle that, MacRae."
"You'll manage." He kisses my forehead. "Somehow."
"I'm holding you to it."
"I'm counting on it."
A knock at the door interrupts us. Tessa pokes her head in, her expression strange.
"Declan. You need to see this."
We follow her to the front of Clifftop House.
I freeze.
Graeme Northshore is on our doorstep with two dozen wolves at his back. The Alpha who fought us, who challenged Declan, who threw his lot in with Connor. He should be our enemy.
But he's kneeling.
Jax snarls low in his throat. "It's a trap. Has to be."
"Maybe." Finn moves to flank Declan, his dragon close to the surface. "Or maybe he's smarter than we gave him credit for."
Graeme keeps his head bowed, his hands spread wide. His wolves mirror his position, all of them kneeling on our property, offering themselves. If Declan wanted to kill them all right now, they've given him the opportunity.
"MacRae." Graeme's voice is rough. "I was wrong. We all were. Let us help you stop this."