Warner ran through the trees. He didn’t know where he was running to, or when to stop. If he could stop.
Ever.
He couldn’t distinguish between the wrenching hungers that twisted up his guts. He couldn’t separate them—the need to devour, to consume and his need for Mari.
He should keep running.
He should run until his legs fail, until his bones break, until there’s nothing left of him but meat for the carrion.
It was the only way to keep them all safe.
To keep her safe.
What about the Pack of Peter Breslins roaming free in the north? What about the shadow you feel inside you falling over the world?
The thought was inside his head, but it wasn’t completely his own.
Something other whispered in the back of his head, growing there like an oily cancer.
Just then, he caught the scent of blood on the breeze and his hunger wouldn’t be denied. Blood was the only thing that would satisfy the raking claws through his guts.
It won’t help you.
Nothing can help you, except the flesh of the cursed.
Pictures of the animal built a slideshow in his mind.
He knew where it was, knew all of his injuries, and yes, he even knew the gender.
It had never been like this… hunting. He would catch a scent and his mind would pour through what seemed like mental files to find the animal it belonged to. It was a very human way to think—a meld of his wolf brain and his human brain.
This was… this was like he’d tapped into some kind of magic.
He was at war with himself.
Warner needed to make this pain, this raging hunger be silent, but the darkness told him it wouldn’t be the release he needed, he wouldn’t be sated.
Was this what it was going to be like? A never-ending insatiable hunger?
He didn’t want this.
Couldn’t live like this.
His new sharper, longer teeth elongated in his mouth and the Change hit him hard.
Warner’s bones all broke at once, shattering inside his skin and he heard a sound like a howl, or was it a scream? All he knew was the sound was awful and it was coming from his own throat.
The bones knit themselves back together, faster now than the last time, and he was once again bipedal.
Somehow, the hunger had intensified. He didn’t have the words to describe it.
The bear lumbered about, just beyond the creek, leaving a trail of blood behind him.
And Warner’s faint control disappeared.
He was no longer in the driver’s seat. The dark thing was.
Suddenly, it wasn’t about eating to feed his physical body. It was about the violence. The depravity.
The thing he’d become was rage personified.
When it was finished, when the darkness was sated, all that was left of the bear was a pile of oozing muck.
When Warner came back to himself, he was still hungry.
Naked and bloody, he lay face down in the grass and screamed into the earth below him.
Then, he inhaled the scents around him that were not blood and death. The green grass, the loamy earth, the trees…
He knew what he had to do.
For maybe the first time in centuries, Westwood was wrong.
He was no champion, dark or otherwise. He was a vessel for something that had hitched a ride back from the other side and it needed to be returned before it wreaked this kind of devastation on his pack.
It wasn’t fair, but life often wasn’t. Warner knew that better than anyone.
He wasn’t going to rail against what he couldn’t change.
He would do what within his power to do.
Warner would go to Minnesota. He’d kill this infected pack, and wipe it from the earth.
Then, he’d do the same to himself. It was the only option.
He only had one regret. In a long, preternatural life filled with so many sorrows, not being able to give Mari the things she deserved and wanted was the one thing he wished he could change.
Not Arianna’s or Sterling’s death, they’d made their choices. He wouldn’t take that from them.
Not even stepping aside so Arianna could be with Sterling. Without that, he’d never have his wonderful nephews. The pack wouldn’t have blossomed as it had under Sterling’s and now Blake’s rule.
And they’d been happy.
That was enough for Warner.
But Mari.
As he thought of her, his breathing slowed and agony still shooting through him began to subside.
He remembered her words. How she’d reminded him of that Christmas. Warner knew she’d spent most of the holiday alone, being unable to transform to share in the wolfy festivities. She was so delicate. So very human.
But fierce too, the darkness reminded him.
He agreed. In the cemetery, when he’d been Changing, it was awful. He didn’t know how he looked, but he knew it was wrong.
She hadn’t been afraid of him.
His first instinct had been to think that maybe she didn’t know enough to be afraid, but Mari was smart, and definitely capable. She knew.
She simply had faith in him.
By the goddess, the way she tasted.
His cock throbbed to life and he had to roll on his back. He tried not to think about her. There was no point in obsessing over what he couldn’t have.
You could have her.
Remember, she offered herself to you.
Was hot and desperate for you.
Take her.
Bite her.
Mark her.
Taste her…
That was exactly why he couldn’t have her. He wouldn’t take the chance that he’d hurt her.
Although, she hadn’t seemed like she was in any kind of pain except the kind induced by his refusal to do his duty.
Even in this state.
Her mouth tasted like summer and her skin, like strawberries. He wondered if her cleft would taste the same. He wanted to lick her until she came on his face, screaming.
Warner didn’t know where this was coming from—this need for her. It wasn’t like this when he’d claimed her.
Sure, she was beautiful. But she wasn’t The One. His True Mate. And it would’ve been no hardship to bed her. In fact, he would’ve made sure they both enjoyed it immensely, when the time was right.
Something had changed between them and the only thing it could be was this new shadow inside of him.
Of course it would want her. She was soft, and sweet, and—
It’s more than that.
She is us.
Warner had a brief vision of gouging that voice out of his head with his own claws.
“No, she’s not,” he said aloud.
Laughter echoed in his ears.
You’ll see.
“No, I won’t. And neither will you.” Determination flooded him and he wasn’t going to let himself anywhere near sweet Mari every again.
Doesn’t matter. She’ll come to us. She must.
And you want her to.
His hand had closed around his cock and while it felt so good, he didn’t want the thoughts in his head.
They were all about Mari.
About licking her. Tasting her. Touching her.
About tearing her tender throat with his dark bite.
About how she fucking loved it.
His stroke moved faster, harder and his hips thrust in time. He should stop, he wanted to stop. He didn’t want to come thinking about hurting her.
And the visions changed.
She was the one infected with the darkness. She was the one running him down in the woods to tear at his flesh.
Goddess Above, when he imagined her marking him with the same hell-teeth like his own, that’s what took him over the edge, and he spilled his seed in his hand.
The grass died where it touched, and if Warner had harbored any hope that he’d ever touch her, they died in that moment.
The natural world was so offended by his existence, the vehicle with which he could reproduce was poison.
This was all he could have of her.
He knew he could never see her again.
But he didn’t think it would be a problem after Minnesota.
He dragged himself to his feet and began to make his way back to Aphelion.
Normally, he’d just Change and run. In his wolf form, he could cover the distance in a short time, but he didn’t want to Change. He didn’t want that devil face anywhere near his pack.
And he wondered briefly if he was in that form if Aphelion’s ward would rip him apart. They were magically keyed to destroy anyone who passed the boundaries with ill intent toward any of the residents.
He’d say that his hunger for Mari was definitely ill-intended.
His cock had begun to throb again and now his teeth along with it. They both ached to be inside her.
But he wasn’t going to allow that to happen, was he?
The darkness inside him was quiet now, but he wasn’t under any illusions that anyone was safe. It was simply biding its time like a master predator would.
It took him an hour to run back to Aphelion using only his human form.
And it felt surprisingly good. He liked feeling the way his body worked, the press of his feet against the ground, the way his lungs expanded and contracted with effort. He even liked the discomfort that verged on pain. He ran harder, wanted to feel more of it. Because that meant he was still Warner.
There was a kind of numbness in a darkness, a toxin to make him more amenable to all the awful things it wanted him to do.
When he stepped inside Aphelion, it struck him that it would be for the last time.
This was his home.
Where he’d helped raise a family, and a pack.
This was where his heart lived and where it would stay long after his flesh was gone.
He leaned against the stone column and pressed his forehead to the cool surface for a long moment before heading to the armory.
Unfortunately, when he got to the armory, it was already occupied by one Miss Lenore Breslin.
She was sitting with her legs crossed, swinging her leg impatiently while sipping a coffee.
Various bits of hiking gear and supernatural self-defense detritus lay spread out on the prep tables, along with two backpacks and camping gear.
“Took you long enough. I thought you’d have tried to sneak out hours ago.”
“You’re not coming with me.”
“The hell you say.” There was no rancor in her tone. It was as if she were telling him about the forecast, which smelled like rain.
“Lenore—”
“Warner?”
“I know you’re a big girl. I know you can take care of yourself. But this is different.” He didn’t want to see anything happen to the hunter.
Like he’d thought earlier, yeah, somehow she’d become part of their pack and he wanted to protect her.
“I’m not going to say it’s not different. I know that it is. But you don’t need to do this alone.”
“I ate him, Lennie. You want to come with me knowing that? Or will that make it easier to take my head when the time comes? Is that why you want to come?”
“Don’t be a dumbass, Warner. I’m not taking your head.”
“Then I don’t need you.”
“Yes, you do.” She rolled her eyes. “Look, I get it. You’re noble and shit. You’re the champion. But in the all the stories we’ve ever heard either in our own lore, or human lore never has there been The One who didn’t have a team. Who didn’t help them reach the final battle they were meant to fight. So you’re The One. And I’m the team, ‘kay? Good.”
He put his hand out on her arm and she arched a brow at him.
“Listen to me. You know what else happens? Those team members die. They sacrifice their lives and I couldn’t take it if something happened to you. Noah couldn’t take it either.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No one said it would be.”
“Okay. You got me there, Gray Tail.”
“You’re pack, Lenore. I know that you’re a hunter. I know that you’re always in danger, but I can keep you from this danger. It’s my responsibility, and my honor.”
Lenore sniffed and blinked. “I love you, too, you grumpy old bastard. Which is why I’m still coming. Pack means no one left behind. And if you want to protect me, I guess that means you just have to stay alive to do it.”
He closed his eyes
“Goddess damn it, Lenore.”
“I’ll make you a promise. If you’re not the wolf I think you are, the wolf Westwood thinks you are, then I’ll do it, okay? If you become a threat, I’ll take your head.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to let you.”
“None of the wolves let me, War.” She hugged him tight. “But it’s not going to come to that. I know it.”
He let himself rest in her embrace for just a moment. He wasn’t only hugging Lenore. He was hugging Noah. Drew. Blake. Parker. Emmie. Randi.
Mari.
A low growl started in the back of his throat as he thought of her, but Lenore didn’t pull away. Didn’t tense up. She simply kept hugging him.
He wanted to live up to the picture she—all of them—had painted of him. He wanted to be what they thought he was.
Wanted to be the wolf he’d always believed himself to be.
Which was why he had to get away from them. All of them.
Even Lenore.
But he knew he wasn’t getting out of Aphelion without her.
He pulled back from her. “Fine. But it’s not because you hugged me,” he grumbled.
“No, it’s because I’ll tranq your ass if I have to and you know it.” She grinned.
“That I do, Lenore.”
“Glad that’s settled. Do you want the Sig or are you just going to use your teeth?” She held up the modified Sig Sauer P226.
“Might as well take a few of those, but I don’t know that the silver nitrate bullets are going to do any good.”
“Well, I had an idea. I got some empty rounds from David and we’re going to fill them with your blood. If your saliva is toxic to them, your blood will be too.”
“You’re not worried I might make more like me?”
“Nah. Westwood said whatever is happening to you is to force balance. And hey, after the world is back as it should be, maybe you will be too.”
Warner knew that was as likely as shit sticking to the moon and tasting like one of Gin’s cupcakes.
But eliminating the threats to his pack and his family were all that mattered.