Chapter 39

The underbrush and scraggly bushes choking the ground thinned out the farther into the woods Gwen walked. She scanned her surroundings, noting the worn trails leading off in different directions and the small stones lining the path Ezra led her down. As odd as it sounded, this section of the forest appeared lived in.

This area, hidden by a mix of tall evergreens and nearly bare trees, served as Molly’s temporary home, not the dilapidated cabin several hundred yards back. It was beautiful, serene, and quiet. The kind of place to get lost in, forgetting the troubles of the outside world. That was exactly what Molly and her protectors, Ezra and Uri, had done. They’d isolated themselves, taking the easy way out.

If Xander hadn’t risked everything for her by giving her a piece of his soul in order to save her life, she might’ve done something similar. Running or hiding from the tough issues was easier and safer. Neither of those had been an option for her. She’d had to fight for herself, trusting in her own inner strength. Molly had to do the same.

Her new cell phone rang, yanking Gwen out of her thoughts and stopping her steps. She dug the phone out of her tote and answered. “Hello?”

“Gwen, it’s Ella Montgomery. I’m calling with an update on Killer’s retrieval.”

Gwen clutched the strap of her tote. “Good or bad?”

Ella’s sigh carried over the line, and Gwen’s shoulders slumped. “Neither, really. The fight has been canceled.”

“Oh.” Gwen didn’t know what else to say. She’d been counting on Shifter Affairs to save Eli.

“Don’t worry. I’m not giving up on him. We’ll get him back.”

Gwen nodded, then, realizing Ella couldn’t see her, she mumbled, “Okay.”

“I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear. I wish I had better news.”

“Me too, but I’m grateful you told me. Really, Ella. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll reach out when I know more.”

Ella ended the call, and Gwen was left with a heavier weight on her shoulders. Eyes closed, she inhaled, held her breath a moment, then exhaled slowly. Her troubles didn’t suddenly disappear, but she slipped her phone back into the tote and squared her shoulders. Nobody ever said life would be easy, but she knew how to deal with it.

One issue at a time.

In this moment, Molly waited for her. Quickening her steps, Gwen tucked her tote against her side and hurried after Ezra, but the sight of Lena rushing forward stopped Gwen in her steps a second time. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Lena jogged closer while Ezra slipped deeper into the woods. “I just wanted to prep you so you weren’t upset over Molly’s silence. She’s taken to ignoring us completely, not even looking in our direction when we talk to her.”

Gwen tightened her hold on the tote’s strap. The familiar annoyance surged. Her family was still trying to protect her. She ignored the bitterness before it could take root. As she’d learned from Xander and Vlad, the desire to protect her didn’t always mean her loved ones viewed her too weak to handle things. That was her twist on their actions. More often than not, it stemmed from love.

And Lena loved Gwen.

Nodding, Gwen eased her death grip on the strap. The heavy tote slid to the edge of her shoulder. “Do you think she’s feral?”

Lena didn’t answer. Openmouthed, she stared at Gwen’s shoulder. Shaking off the shock, Lena plastered a huge grin on her face and met Gwen’s eyes. “You’re mated.”

“Yes.”

“Who?” Lena stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Xander?”

Biting her lip, Gwen fought a smile. She shouldn’t be amused over this, but she couldn’t help wanting to see her sister’s expression when Lena realized her innocent baby sister had not just one dominant and sexy mate, but two.

Obviously taking her silence as a denial, Lena covered her mouth. Her eyes widened. “Vlad. Oh my God, I’m sorry. I knew all along we didn’t belong to each other. I used him, probably as much as he used me. If I had known—”

“Lena.” Gwen grasped her sister’s hand. “I’m over it. Really, I am. Vlad, Xander, and I have put our pasts behind us and moved on. We love each other.” Even if they hadn’t officially said those three little words to each other yet. She felt it every time they touched.

Lena tipped her head back. For the first time ever, pink tinged Lena’s cheeks. “You, Vlad, and Xander? As in the three of you?”

“Yes.” Gwen laughed. “And losing my virginity with them was quite…satisfying.”

Lena wrapped her arms around Gwen, hugging her tight. “I’m so happy for the three of you. So very happy.”

“So am I.”

“You know it’s going to be hard, right?” Lena eased out of the hug. “The Shifter Council and many of the hardcore leaders of the various shifter groups are going to make things difficult for the three of you. Hannah’s pack has been dealing with both the blatant and subtle discrimination for months. I can imagine it’ll only get worse after they learn of yet another nontraditional mating.”

“I know.” Gwen straightened her shoulders. “They won’t break us, though. We’ll survive.”

“Of course, you will. Of that I have no doubt.” Lena nodded, then linked her fingers with Gwen’s. “Come on. We can talk more later. Let’s catch Molly before she escapes into the woods. She gets annoyed with us after a while, and I’ve been talking to her for some time now.”

Gwen fell into step with her sister, a first. In the past, Lena had always led her. Maybe Gwen was reading into things, but here in this moment, she finally felt as if they were equals. She let the happiness the knowledge brought wrap around her, then pushed it aside. This visit wasn’t about her.

Gwen stopped. “I want to talk to Molly alone.” She’d already sent Vlad and Devin back.

Lena studied Gwen a moment, then motioned ahead. “Just past those trees is a clearing Molly favors. She was there stretched out in a pocket of sun a few minutes ago.”

“Okay.”

Gwen made her way to the clearing. There, in the dappled patches of light, lay the white lioness cub Gwen knew to be the little sister she had killed to protect. Her throat burned. All the memories of the two of them running from the shifters trying to capture them flooded her mind, but one thing stood out: they’d been a team then, helping each other.

“So…I’m alive,” Gwen announced.

Molly, in her lioness form, opened her eyes minutely. She studied Gwen for a moment, then flicked her tail before closing her eyes.

Not the greeting Gwen had hoped for.

Without looking at her sister, Gwen spread a blanket on the ground and laid out the few items she’d packed, including a sundress Molly had once favored and a pair of blue flip-flops. Then she turned her back on Molly, unfolded the newspaper she’d brought, and started working on the crossword puzzle, exactly as she did in those days they’d fled across the country.

“One, down. Five letters. A common British cat.” Gwen tapped the pencil to her lip, then scribbled the answer. “Moggy.”

Moving on to the next one, she repeated the process, reading the hint, then answering out loud. Once Gwen reached a clue she couldn’t figure out, Molly, with her superior intelligence, would join in, supplying the answer. Hopefully.

The boarded-up building Brock had chosen for this meeting stood in the middle of the human town. At one time, it had probably served as a busy department store with several floors, packed with everything from housewares to clothes. The gutted shell Xander stood in now had been reduced to support beams and exposed lightbulbs. It served its purpose for today, though. The privacy it offered allowed for this candid and unorthodox meeting.

Xander faced the ancient Royal. “You called me here. Tell me why.”

“They have my alpha.” Brock made the announcement in a matter-of-fact tone.

Gabriel, the male who Owen had been bonded to. “Your alpha has been missing for many years. Some say he’s in hiding.”

“And some people believe unicorns are real.” Sarcasm dripped from Brock’s words.

Fighting a smirk, Xander inclined his head. “True, but you called this meeting to talk about experiments done on Megan and Molly, not your missing alpha or unicorns.”

“The experiments done on those two little girls has sealed my alpha’s fate. They have Gabriel, and it’s only a matter of time before he too is sacrificed in order to steal my pack’s spirit.”

Tension tightened Xander’s shoulders. “They? Who are ‘they’?”

“The same group of so-called scientists who experimented on Molly and her twin, turning them into pseudo alpha hosts.” Brock’s voice hardened. “And now that those witches know their experiment on Molly was successful, they’re ready to try again.”

Witches.

The word tensed Xander’s muscles. Rumors had suggested the witches’ involvement, nothing more. Without facts, Xander wouldn’t condemn any group. “Every human I know who practices witchcraft is benign, a lover of the earth and everything on it. I can’t believe they’d harm babies.”

Brock’s orange eyes narrowed in an obvious display of annoyance. “Do you know our species’ history, alpha of the Winchester pack?”

Like many of those born in the last millennium, he knew some details, not all. His father and those of the earlier generations hadn’t talked much about their origins. They’d felt abandoned by the gods and goddesses.

As a result, Xander knew the basics. The single shifters were created when the gods joined the souls of animals to their favored warriors in an attempt to create the ultimate fighter, and the Royals were the offspring of those first shifters’ affairs with the goddesses.

“Only what my elders have told me.”

Brock made a disgusted sound. “I never agreed with the selective stories that were passed on, but many of the first- and second-generation shifters shied away from the ugliness of our origins. They wanted to romanticize the sexual encounters with the goddesses.” He shrugged. “And maybe, in some instances, love mattered. In most cases, the sex was about power, control, and revenge against the gods.”

Brock lowered his voice as if sharing a secret. “The original shifters were shamans. Surely, you know that, don’t you?”

“Berserkers is the term I’d heard.”

“One and the same. They were a bunch of violent, feared humans who were either high or drunk most of the time. The ultimate bad boys, you might say.” Brock grinned. “At heart, though, they were shamans, lovers of the earth as you so eloquently described their modern counterparts, and after a time, they grew regretful of their demonic rages that left whole villages slaughtered. They beseeched the gods for help controlling their anger. Instead of taming their crazed frenzies, the gods offered them an outlet for their power where they wouldn’t hurt innocents.”

“Fighting the gods’ battles in the heavens.” That much Xander knew.

“Yes. The berserkers grew immensely strong during their time in the heavens.” Brock leaned closer to Xander and lowered his voice to a mere breath of sound. “But so did the gods’ lust for violence. They wanted bloodier, more vicious battles to entertain them.”

“So they bonded the souls of animals to their warriors.”

“Using the shamans’ own power, not theirs. It is why the gods couldn’t undo what they had done. It wasn’t their power that created the first shifters.” An amused look settled over Brock’s face. “The shamans damned themselves, but they didn’t learn this until after the first Royals were born.”

Xander didn’t doubt this version of their origins. As old as he was, Brock had likely heard the tale as recounted by the first alphas. “And because of this, you believe modern witches are behind the attempts to make single shifters immortal?”

“One small coven has learned to harness their powers the same way the gods once did. Thankfully, not all witches have learned this.” Brock’s mouth pressed into a firm line. “And from what I understand, this coven is being forced to manipulate soul bonds in the singles’ quest for immortality.”

“How do you know this?”

Brock smirked. “I have my sources, and if we don’t act soon, all Royal alphas will end up facing the same fate as my alpha.”

Xander studied the other male for a long moment. As much as he wished otherwise, Brock was likely right. “What do you want me to do?”

“Call off your rescue mission, and allow Killer to fight this last match. I have arranged for him to be released into my custody once he walks out the victor. When he does, he will help me find the high priestess of this coven. She escaped close to a year ago and has been on the run since. Only she can stop her sisters.”

Unease settled over Xander. He knew Brock had been searching for his alpha for years, but to risk his position on the Shifter Council by associating with the criminals of their species spoke of desperation. It was the exact path Xander had taken. He would’ve done anything to find Gwen.

“What rescue mission?” Xander asked. No way would he divulge details that might endanger Elias.

A low growl escaped Brock’s mouth. “Do not act stupid, alpha of the Winchester pack. I know Killer is your lost brother Elias, and I know he is the male who protected Gwen while she was incarcerated in the fighting compound. I also know Shifter Affairs is planning his retrieval for this full moon. You need to stop them from doing so.”

“Why should I?” Xander matched Brock’s aggressive tone. “Why should I force my brother to commit another murder if Shifter Affairs can rescue him before he has to fight?”

“Because if his handlers suspect a raid, they will remotely trigger the specialized shackles he wears, and a massive dose of mind-altering drugs will be pumped into his system. It’ll send him over the edge. Turn him feral.”

“Are you telling me he’s not feral now?”

“No, he’s not feral. I spoke to him days ago. He’s coherent when he’s not being drugged.”

Xander scrutinized Brock, looking for any signs that the other male was lying and not finding any. Every instinct Xander possessed urged him to believe Brock’s claim. Only one factor left him hesitant. “Why do you think Elias can find this priestess?”

Brock smiled triumphantly. “Because she’s his true—”

Xander tensed at the same time Brock whipped his head toward the boarded-up windows. A crackling sound came out of nowhere. Xander’s wolves focused on the noise, trying to associate it with something they’d heard before. The only thing remotely similar was the crunching noise water bottles made when they were crushed. This was louder, though.

No unusual scents registered either, but he’d learned not to trust his sense of smell. Those who had access to the drug that masked a shifter’s scent didn’t have to worry about giving away their presence via smell.

Even without the triggers, the premonition of danger grew. Xander’s wolves paced in the metaphysical field where they lived. They wanted to be released to hunt their enemies, to kill them. Inside this building, however, they had limited options to stalk their prey.

They were the ones trapped.

Xander cut a quick glance at Brock. Fury tightened the other male’s features. The sight comforted Xander. If Brock had led Xander here with the intention of tricking him, Brock wouldn’t look as if he were ready to kill whoever lurked outside too.

A boom rocked the building. The plywood covering the windows imploded, sending slivers of wood into the open space. He ignored the tiny pricking of the flying debris and ran deeper into the building. If threats waited outside, he wanted to be in a position to counter them. Standing in the middle of a gutted store didn’t offer him many options to assess the danger.

Brock matched him. He pointed toward the remains of an escalator, then led the way forward, running up the once-motorized stairs.

A bear grunted, yanking Xander’s gaze to the front of the building. Three massive Kodiak bears knocked the front door in. Two lions followed. All single shifters in their animal forms. All enemies. Xander recognized the largest of the bears as belonging to the Ulgran clan, the same family group who’d kidnapped Gwen.

The shifters who’d hurt his mate would die. Here. Now. He pivoted and ran toward his enemy.

Gunshots echoing from deeper inside the building stopped Xander from delivering his own form of retribution. Following the sounds of fighting, Xander rushed to the second level just as another shot resounded, followed by another and another.

Brock’s body jerked with the impact of bullets. Snarling, he lunged at the male who’d shot him, the male who’d stood at Brock’s side on Corey’s front yard, the male rumored to be a Purist.

James.

Both Xander and Brock had been betrayed.

Xander cursed and ran toward the fight. Another shifter raised a rifle. He aimed at Brock, fired. Blood sprayed over Brock’s face. He stumbled. James tugged a sword from the sheath strapped to his back. Another bullet hit Brock’s face, turning his features into a ruined mess of raw flesh. Brock crumpled, landing on his knees. James swung.

“No!” Xander lunged for the sword.

Missed.

The blade connected with Brock’s neck, gouging a deep wound. Another single, one of the enforcers who’d accompanied both Brock and James to Corey’s house, gripped Brock’s head and yanked, severing it from his body and ending the ancient’s long life.

His powerful blood sprayed, covering his killers and Xander. He swiped at the hot liquid blinding him. Somebody grabbed his hands and dragged Xander to his knees.

Refusing to meet the same fate as Brock, Xander twisted, yanking his attacker over his body. The sword meant for Xander’s head connected with the male who’d thought to restrain him. The coward’s cry rang out, feeding into the battle frenzy fueling Xander.

He unleashed his claws and attacked the closest male, a lion shifter in his human form. With a swipe of his sharpened nails, he gutted the male, an injury that would kill the single shifter. Leaving him as dead, even if he still breathed, Xander turned to the next and ripped out his neck. Two more of his attackers met the same fate.

Xander spun, looking for James. The male who’d betrayed them ran toward the second escalator leading to the first floor. Noise from behind Xander stopped him from following James. The bears who’d knocked in the front door stood at the top of the first escalator, the one Xander had used to reach this floor.

He wanted their blood above all else. If Xander had to guess, they’d been the ones to order this attack, not James. The weak Council member was an opportunist, not a leader.

Xander kicked aside the lifeless body of the last lion shifter who’d attacked Brock and faced the biggest of the bears. “Shift. I want to—”

A sharp piercing pain exploded in Xander’s leg. He glanced down. The male he’d gutted withdrew a syringe from Xander’s calf, then rolled onto his back. The life faded from his eyes while a grin spread over his face.

Xander stumbled. His vision wavered, and the connection to his wolves faded. Not gone, just hazed as if he’d drunk a full bottle of whiskey.

He cursed. The word came out sloshy.

Strong arms wrapped around his chest from behind. Xander bucked but couldn’t break the male’s grip. Weakness plagued him. His knees gave out. Another shifter grasped Xander’s hands and pulled, stretching them in front of him.

A glint of silver warned him to act. He tugged, trying to free his hands. His muscles didn’t respond. His head lolled back. The whoosh of the blade cutting through the air echoed in his head. Lashing pain followed.

He grunted, unable to hold back the reaction as his own blood ran freely from his wrists…where his hands had once been. They’d severed them, leaving him helpless and unable to defend himself until they grew back.

Laughter surrounded him. A fist connected with his face, followed by more hard punches. With the drug working its way through his system and the agony of losing his hands clouding his mind, blackness crept over his vision. He couldn’t stop it.