Blood & Wine

44 | Fynley

A howl split the air.

I stood still, looking outside where the rest of my pack was. The howl I recognized; I had been hearing it my entire life. It was my father's fierce, furious howl that sent chills down my spine.

"He's early," I said, glancing out the window calmly. My entire body had thawed out. The sun was still out, and no one had even had a chance to leave the Coven House. In fact, Jagger, Iris, and Dasher were still in the corner, laughing about something. Jagger didn't think I knew Sarah was pregnant—but I had smelled the baby on her when she dropped by this morning. It was a different layer clinging to her.

I had no reason to send him back. He would disobey every order I gave to stand by my side because he wasn't just my Second but my best friend, too.

Eden swore, and her fingers untangled from my hair. She had been braiding it, more to steady her nerves than mine, but the sensation—repetitive and gentle—had calmed me down. "Get your pack inside now," she commanded, and in one smooth motion, she was flying from the second floor to the first floor, hollering commands the entire way. "Calla, call the Fae!"

Calla jumped up—everybody was on high alert.

A witch came dashing in from the front yard, her eyes wide and terrified. "Eden—"

"I know, get inside," Eden said. For every step she took, I was right on her heels. My dad was my fight. However, I could tell my pack to stay away—I knew better than to tell Eden, especially when we were all at her house. "Witches, get to the second floor now."

They all started running past us—all except Calla, who was now on the phone with the Fae. Ezekiel stood behind her, his eyes steady on her face, the flat of his hand pressed against her back. He had come to a fight wearing a suit.

"Werewolves," I said calmly, "stand down and back up. Right now, we listen to Eden."

The growls that were erupting from outside didn't stop, but I saw the sixteen werewolves outside start to file inside, the hairs on their arms standing as they battled the change. "Fynley, they're arriving with more than we thought," Leon told me, his teeth elongating, his claws starting to grow.

"Calm down." I regarded none of them, my eyes focused on my father, walking toward us with a head in his hands—a werewolf. One of the children Iris sent to safety. Her eyes were open in shock, and, although there was nothing in them, I could see she had died in horror.

Eden didn't falter a step. "Hurry up," she commanded, shouldering past the werewolves. She paused in the doorway, her eyes going to Calla. "Everybody stays inside until either I or Fynley command it to do so."

Calla nodded.

Jagger jogged up to me. "What do you want me to do?"

Go home to your pregnant Mate. Go buy that damn ring you were looking at last night and thought nobody saw. Just get out of here. Instead, I told him, "Tell Iris to keep everyone calm and ready. Keep Dasher inside. Tell her the others are on their way, and when they get here, they need to stay inside until we assess the situation. When she understands that, you come back down here with me."

He nodded once and headed upstairs.

Eden stared outside, and she looked so tiny with no shoes on, only wearing a too-large sweater and some blue leggings with clouds on them, and those thick, fuzzy socks. "Do you know how much magic I have?" she asked, her voice quiet. My father had stopped about three hundred feet away from the house. He threw that head at us, laughing.