And my heart soars before all of us take off toward the crowd.
We have to meet them halfway. Otherwise, there’s no protecting the village from their assault.
Chapter 25
Theo
We’re outnumbered, and I fear for our safety. But most of all, I fear for Clarissa’s safety. And her unborn child’s. I love her. More than I can stand. And watching her go into war confirms that for me. The fear of her dying. The fear of her getting injured, it pushes me forward. My feet pad along the ground as my hands thrust me forward, my body in front of everyone else as we race for the hoard of Primals.
Their spears are in the air, and I know we have to dodge them. I know we need to get rid of them. We barrel into the crowd. My large hands are swiping, digging into every sinewy flesh I can catch. Skin is tearing, and blood is spilling onto the white snow beneath our feet. My heart is pumping a rush of adrenaline through my veins. I see Clarissa from the corner of my eye, tossing Primals left and right and sinking her teeth into their veins.
She’s strong.
Incredibly strong.
And watching her in admiration knocks me off my game.
A Wolf goes for my neck, but not before Sebastian lunges. He tackles the Wolf from my body, and I rise quickly enough to duel with another Bear. My teeth sink into his shoulder. His paws. I dodge his swipes and kick with my legs until he’s bleeding and writhing underneath me. I reach down and grab his throat, then lift him toward the sky.
I snap his neck and drop him to the ground before I turn and face Clarissa.
She’s looking at me with worry and pain in her eyes. And I know what it’s from. She feels guilty for killing Chief. At the very least, she’s wondering what it has done to me. To us. But she doesn’t have to worry, and I hope to live long enough to tell her that. Chief’s death hurts, and knowing he died at the teeth of Clarissa makes it sour, but he made a choice. Clarissa allowed him the chance to change sides. To fight for her and at our side. And he chose to lash out. He chose to strike Clarissa. To hurt her instead of fight to save her.
His death was recompense for his decision, and I understand that.
I swipe my claws in the air and drive them into the underside of a Deer’s jaw. In a way, fighting Primals is easier than humans. Their faces all look the same. All animalistic with no etch of feeling. There’s nothing but anger in their eyes and bitterness toward Clarissa, and it makes it easier to kill them. To leave them bleeding in the snow. If they were in their human forms, I’m not sure I could participate. I’m not sure I could look them in their faces and watch the life drain from their eyes.
But seeing their angry, animalistic forms?
It makes it easier.
Even though it pains me to admit it.
I see a Rat lunging for Clarissa’s side, and I run toward her. The damn thing sinks its teeth into her side, and she howls. I grab the little rodent and take him in both my hands. Then I pull until there’s nothing but two pieces of a bloodied carcass in my hands. Clarissa is stumbling around, and I fear for her safety. The safety of her child.
I reach over for her and press my paws against her wound. It’s small but filled with saliva. Rats pump an incredible amount at once into their small wounds, and it’s what makes them so dangerous. I close my eyes and call on the healing of my ancestors to flow through me and have mercy on this pregnant woman.
And when I remove my hands, nothing remains but a bit of blood-stained fur.
I lift her off the ground, and she nuzzles her head into my chest. A small “thank you” for healing her on the battlefield. I wish I had a way to communicate with her like Sebastian did. In her mind’s eye. She had no thanking that needed to be done. I would heal her and love her a thousand times over. Protect her at any cost and kill an
yone who set out to harm her.
Like the Bat flying around trying to dig its claws into her back.
I swipe at it and catch one of its wings in my grasp. I toss it off to the side and watch as Vlad catches it between his jowls. He crunches down, and the squealing of the Bat is a terrible noise. Then Vlad releases the dead Primal from his mouth, and I watch.
I watch it slowly turn back into a human.
And the sight sickens me.
A young woman. No more than twenty-two, maybe. Caught up in a war that has nothing to do with her. I look out over the devastation and the fighting and the blood being spilled, and it makes my stomach turn. The ground is littered with dead Primals in their human form. Naked. Bleeding. Vulnerable. Gray clouds are looming over our heads, threatening to spill snow over the battlefield and erase the horrors of what’s taking place.
But a voice pierces my troubled thoughts.
“You think Wolves enjoy this, but we don’t.”
I look over at Sebastian as he walks up next to me.