“Get away from her!” Wyatt roared louder, trying desperately to call his panther out. He almost succeeded, but then the man holding him stabbed him with another syringe of clear liquid. He screamed loudly, as the roar was no longer there to call upon.

  Victor ignored him. “It’s called a shift inhibitor. Much stronger and more potent than what they’ve been feeding you…” He paused, smiling that sickening smile at me. One that said, I know you inside and out. “Kitten.”

  “You piece of shit,” I yelled, the rage seething from every bit of me, but I was not given the opportunity to say anymore as another roar erupted when a huge brown bear barreled into Vic, tearing into him as if he was a rag doll.

  The gang of men who had accompanied Victor were scrambling around his now dead body, trying not to be mauled by the bear. They each shifted, ripping through their clothes as the fabric shredded into scraps. Each one growling as a multitude of colored wolves jumped in to attack the bear.

  “Dad,” I screamed.

  The man who held me stayed human, and he lifted out a gun and pointed it at Wyatt as the rough-looking man holding him released him to jump into the fray.

  There were snaps and yelps, growls and blood. So much blood. All I could do was watch. There were too many of them. They kept attacking him, my dad, the big burly bear, and I could tell he was losing the fight.

  “No!” I screamed as I stood helpless, watching as they slowly killed him.

  Wolf bodies lay littered on the ground around him as they slowly morphed into the humans they had been, but there were so many of them. It didn’t matter how many he killed, they just kept coming.

  And all I could do was watch. Or could I?

  I forced my eyes away from the horrible scene in front of me, catching Wyatt's gaze. If we could just get the gun.

  Wyatt read my mind as his gaze shifted in response toward the gun in answer, and he nodded and mouthed now.

  I slammed my elbow back as hard as I could in an unnatural angle. Pain shot through my arm, but I ignored it and flipped around, hitting as hard as I could with both my arms as I pulled apart the ties. They may have inhibited our shifting abilities, but the increased strength that had been building was still there.

  A man appeared out of nowhere, reaching out to strike Wyatt. Wyatt grunted as he fell to the ground and took the man's head between his legs, snapping his neck.

  “Grab the keys in his pocket,” he grunted.

  I did, freeing Wyatt’s hands. We turned to once again look at the carnage, and Wyatt lifted the gun, shooting the first wolf taking another lunge. It fell to the ground after taking a bullet to the head. Then another two wolves lunged, some passing out from their wounds and others jumping to dodge the bullets as if in a dance.

  The wolves stopped and looked at Wyatt and I, growling as they moved in closer. Their teeth were barred to us as if they would descend upon us at once, but Wyatt shot another one, killing the wolf in one shot. He was damn good with that gun.

  It was then that the remaining wolves came to their senses and turned, running off.

  It was over. Or at least, I thought it was.

  I walked over to where the big bear lay among the bodies. He was breathing, but it was labored, almost like hisses that weren’t being released in the right way. As he heaved and groaned from pain, I rushed as fast as possible over the dead bodies, not even sparing them a glance as my singular thought was to reach my dad.

  “Dad.” I lifted his big furry head up gently. His large furry brown head was covered in blood, slippery. I ignored the blood, even though the copper smell was overpowering. “Dad, just shift.” Tears spilled from my eyes.

  He opened his eyes and met my gaze, groaning deep as his bear’s form remained.

  “Charlie.” Wyatt walked over. “He can’t change. He is so badly injured; it will kill him.”

  “He is already dying.” I gulped as the tears erupted like a volcano. I was trying so hard to be strong. I swallowed back the rest of the tears, forcing myself to be there for my dad. “Daddy.” I tried to reassure myself that I could do this. “I’m here, Daddy. I’m not leaving you.”

  His dark midnight eyes found mine, and he did everything to conceal the pain he was in. Then he shifted into his human form.

  “Charlie,” he wheezed out his words, spitting blood. “I love you. Please-please-” He coughed more blood, spewing it from his mouth, and then his eyes turned upward as they glazed over. His battered body went limp.

  He was gone.

  My dad was dead.

  I just sat there, holding him, unable to move. This was a dream. It wasn’t real. This couldn’t be happening.

  “Charlie,” Wyatt said urgently as he wrapped his hand over mine. “You have to leave him. We need to go now.” He looked toward the woods, his gaze scanning the darkness.

  Neither of us could shift, and there was no telling how long it would last. We were in danger. There weren’t many bullets left in the handgun, and we didn’t know if any were used beforehand. We were at a big disadvantage. If I wanted to live, if I wanted to avenge my father's death, I needed to run.

  “Bye, Daddy,” I cried, biting my trembling lip and slowly rolling his bloody body off of me to follow Wyatt.

  “His truck!” he called as we ran across the parking lot.

  We jumped inside, Wyatt taking the wheel, but the keys weren’t there.

  “Where are the keys?” Wyatt asked, taking a deep breath and expelling it quickly as he searched the truck. I knew there was another key in the truck, but my mind was blank as it ran over the horror of what had just happened.

  My dad was gone. He was dead. I held him as his life had drained out of him. He had died protecting me, just as he had always done. This couldn’t be real. This was some horrible nightmare, I just had to wake up. I screamed and cried inside myself, and then I felt the numbness wash over me.

  This was real, all of it, and it was my fault. I was such a fool.

  “Charlie,” Wyatt yelled. “Get ahold of yourself. Does he have a spare key?” He grabbed my shoulders, shaking me violently, and it ripped me from my morbid thoughts.

  “It’s in the glove compartment, taped to the side where you can’t see.” I opened the glove compartment, feeling for the key just as the truck rocked when something crashed into it.

  A wolf pounced on the hood, snarling at us. Its eyes gleaming a red color, and blood, my dad's blood, covering its mouth.

  I quickly passed the key to Wyatt, and he turned the truck on and hit the gas. The wolf flew off as he slammed on the brakes, but then he recovered quickly and barreled toward us again.

  Wyatt threw the truck forward, and the truck rocked with the sound of a crunch, a quick yelp, and then a jarring bump.

  The other wolves descended then, chasing after us, but Wyatt pushed the truck to go as fast as it would go, screeching out of the parking lot and leaving the murderous wolves behind.

  And I melted into unstoppable tears.

  We drove for an hour. Wyatt and I were quiet, except for the sobs that escaped me occasionally. Finally, we stopped, and Wyatt ran inside a motel office, returning with a key.

  “We can’t go back. They’ll find us. We need to hide until this serum wears off, and we need to call everyone to gather,” he said as he pulled the key that he had left in the ignition out, then he walked over to my side. As if I were a piece of china that he was afraid to break, he reached over and unbuckled my safety belt, picking me up into his arms and carrying me into the motel room.

  I didn’t argue or fight. I let him, and I let him place me in the bathtub and turn on the water, watching as the water turned red with blood. Not my blood, my dad's blood.

  I stood, my legs wobbling. The idea of soaking in my father's blood made me feel sick. Instead, I turned on the shower and held myself up by gripping the wall, afraid I would fall at any moment.

  After the water washed the grime and sticky blood from my clothes, I slowly stripped them off. Wyatt stayed in the room, concern reflecting in his gaze. I wasn’t worried about being naked in front of him. He had seen me naked so many times. I felt comfortable with him, and in that moment, it didn’t even matter. Nothing mattered. I found myself laughing deliriously.

  “Are you okay?” Wyatt asked.

  I shook my head, feeling my lip tremble again. The tears were about to spill from my eyes. The pain of my loss ripping through my heart, as if they had shot me tonight rather than killing my dad.

  “Please,” I begged. “Please come get in and just hold me.”

  And he did. He stepped into the shower, and he wrapped his arms around me, letting me fall apart in his arms.

  It wasn’t until later, when I found myself wrapped in a towel under the covers in dire need of sleep even though I was trying so hard to find it, that I thought to myself, they took something even more precious than what was taken before. They took my dad. They made me an orphan. They wanted to take me.

  These people, they were evil. How could someone, anyone, do this to someone? Just because this person sought to take back what was already theirs to begin with. I vowed then and there that I would take down the clan if it was the last thing I ever did.

  What if someone else got hurt? My thoughts went to my friends. Alyssa was either working at the Java Hut or asleep in our dorm room, with no idea of the danger she could be in; that I had inadvertently put her in.

  A real Queen, even one without a throne or loyal subjects and followers, should know that sacrifices come along with the territory. I knew I couldn’t put anyone else in danger, even if it meant facing my fear and sacrificing myself. I couldn’t lose anyone else.

  Wyatt returned shortly after leaving, carrying a pile of things he had apparently pilfered from a vending machine stacked in his arms. He looked tired, and there were dark circles under his eyes. A brooding look was set upon his face, as if now a permanent staple.

  “I found sandwiches and cookies.” He dropped the food down on the bed in front of me.

  I sat up but didn’t move to pick up the food. Instead, I played with the dull maroon excuse for a blanket that laid across the queen-sized bed.

  “I’m okay for now.” I sighed. I knew what I must look like, my nose red and my eyes a matching angry shade of crimson, but I didn’t care. It seemed a trivial thing in terms of what had happened earlier today.

  “You need to eat.”

  “I need to kill them.” I let the anger rise and consume me. The rage felt like a furnace. It burned everything else, like a forest fire raging inside me. I felt it engulf me and take over my senses.

  “Listen, I get it. You are mad and upset, and you have a right to be.”

  “I have a right to be?” I felt my voice rise to a shrilly screech as the fire expanded. “I have a right to seek revenge.”

  “Revenge will not fix this,” he murmured, his gaze cast to the floor and his eyes taking on a faraway look, which hinted that he knew all about seeking revenge, only to be disappointed.

  “All I wanted,” I paused, bringing my fingernails to my lips and chewing nervously. “All I wanted was not to live in fear anymore. To not feel broken and hollow. So that no one else had to feel that way either.”

  “I didn’t think they would come this quickly, or that they even suspected.” Wyatt sat next to me, lowering his face into his hands as they hung over his knees. “It’s my fault.” He peered up at me, guilt laden in his stare.

  “No, no, it’s not your fault. It’s their fault. All of them. They are evil, and I vow to unseat them, not just to save these girls or redeem myself, but to do what is right.”

  It was in that moment, as the words spilled from my lips, I realized exactly what was happening. All the fear, it wasn’t there. Instead, in its place, was the burning anger. They would die, and I was going to personally rip all their heads off, starting with their leader and working my way down.

  “We need a plan. We need support. We need to gather reinforcements. It would be suicide otherwise.” Wyatt dipped his head, closing his eyes briefly.

  “Okay. Let’s gather the people.” I stood, squaring my shoulders. “Call Mac.”

  Wyatt refused to call them unless I agreed to sleep some. So, they agreed to come in a few hours after I rested. The clan would watch Mac. So, they sent someone else to the hotel Wyatt had found for us. I was unable to return to my childhood home. The one I had shared with my dad. The thought of the familiarity both eased the numbing depression within me and sparked a bottomless pit of despair at the loss of someone I loved. They didn’t say who they’d send, and I didn’t care.

  I didn’t sleep well, but some sleep was better than no sleep.

  Before I knew it, there was a knock on the door. I stood, trying to fix my appearance as best I could. I needed them to see me as someone who could take the clan on, and even though my father had just died, I could, and would, handle this. However, when the door opened, I almost unraveled.

  “Char.” Claire rushed forward, wrapping me in a huge hug.

  “Do you know?” I asked into her hair, unable to say it.

  “Yes, baby. I know.” She sniffled then pulled back to look at me. Red rimmed her eyes, mirroring my own. We both knew our sadness would not save him, and we were damn sure it would not help us in this moment.

  I sighed. “I need everyone ready,” I began, drawing both Wyatt and Claire’s attention. “We are going to start here. The ones who are left who decided to invade our home, they need to be dealt with. We’ll send a little message to their leader, letting them know that we’re coming for them.” I didn’t stop to let Claire question me, even though the intent was clear in her sad study of me.

  She opened her mouth then closed it, pausing for just a moment before responding. “What do you need?”

  “Have Mac and Tanya find out where they are hiding. Then gather anyone who is itching for a fight. We take the fight to them.” I turned briefly toward Wyatt, noting that he looked uneasy and as if he had something to add.

  Then he finally said something, “We need their numbers. Have Mac try to do a quick count and report it back before we send people. We must surprise them.”

  I nodded in agreement; thankful he wasn’t arguing with me.

  “I’ll call you when we have numbers and more information.” Claire nodded, resting her eyes on me once more. “Look at you, my love. You went and grew up on me.”

  Her smile was sad, and the center of my chest fluttered slightly in sorrow. Only, this tug was hauntingly despondent. I couldn’t let the sadness invade me. I needed to be strong. So, I bit my lip as I hugged her and said goodbye.

  It was only a half hour later that the call came. I’d paced the small room back and forth until the carpet almost showed the wear. Wyatt sat in a chair by the door, looking as uneasy as he had since I had announced my intentions.

  “I don’t like this,” he mumbled, his eyes staring, but not at anything in particular. They appeared as if he was lost somewhere else. Somewhere far away from here.

  “I know,” I admitted.

  He looked as though he had something else to say, but the phone rang, and his eyes snapped back to the here and now as he answered the it.

  “Yes,” he murmured into the phone receiver. “Yes, I know where that is. How many?” He sighed, nodding as if the caller could see him. Then, without another word, he hung up.

  “Where?” I asked, rushing forward.

  “Not far.” Wyatt frowned. “Are you sure about this? Because after this, there is no turning back.”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  And I was. In that moment, I was more sure of this than I had been about anything else in my life.

  We drove my dad’s truck deep into the woods, close to where we had encountered them the first time. Wyatt turned the lights off as soon as he drove off the main road.

  “Turn your night eyes on.”

  “My cat eyes?” I looked in the darkness. It was pitch black. “Did you get your ability to shift back?”

  He nodded.

  I tested my own, and, sure enough, there she was. My tiger, just under the surface, ready to jump into the fray. I exhaled with relief. At least I wouldn’t be defenseless.

  The darkness melted away, and I was able to see perfectly. We were slowly driving up a dirt road. Wyatt pulled off to the side, pulling the truck off the road and into the bush to camouflage it should anyone drive by. We exited the truck and heard a bird whistle. Wyatt jerked his head toward the sound and placed his finger over his lips, showing that we should be silent.

  I followed him, and there, in the middle of the woods, stood over fifty people. All standing ready to fight.

  Mac stepped forward. “They are a half mile up the road in a large rundown cabin.” He paused, regarding me for a long moment.

  I kept my face stoic as I nodded.

  “Charlie, I’m sorry about your dad. He was a good man.” He rested his hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly.

  “Yes, he was. Now let’s get the bastards that killed him.”

  As my eyes scanned the people in front of me, they all nodded in agreement. It was then that I recognized some of them. Simone and Beth were there alongside Claire, Tanya, and a few faces I didn’t recognize, but each looked at me with expectation, ready for their next order.

  I turned back to Mac. “Where are they located in the house?”

  “There are three in the back bedroom,” he paused, his face turning toward the house's direction as he raised his nose to the air. “One is outside standing guard. No, wait, there are two outside.”

  “How many total?” I turned my eyes to Simone and Beth as I waited for him to answer.

  “Thirteen are left,” he answered without pause.

  My eyes snapped back to his. After all the bodies that had piled up, there were still that many? I felt my eyes widen, and I knew he noticed, even in the dark.

  “There were over a forty. There are two large cabins, used for camping in the fall. They have been using both cabins and camping outside. Now, the remaining barely take up the whole cabin.”

 

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