Curse of Ferreus

32 - Fate & Family

Liliana falls back with a strangled gasp, dropping her crossbow and grasping desperately at her throat. Her efforts are futile.

Before Orion and my mother have time to react, or even draw in the air to start shouting, the bushes explode as a hoard of savage wolves come charging, tearing into their enemies with fury. The last echoes of the howling wolves safe back at the den fades to silence. As Liliana drops to her knees, blood drenching her hands, wolves crowd around her, a force of snarls and claws, and I can barely hear her scream in the cacophony.

My mother fires a shot at me— I barely manage to duck out of its path.

I reach for the knife at my ankle and slice through the rope keeping Rowan's hands bound. He lurches up, spins, and grabs me by the shoulders. "River, you— are you alright—?" His eyes are wide with terror and he holds me to him with steadfast attention.

I know why. My empty silver eyes gaze back at him in an almost detached way, and my focus strays behind him towards the fight. Arrows and bullets hiss through the air. I'm lost in a Haze and the threats aren't gone just yet.

Orion and my mother are remarkably quick to wrestle back some semblance of an advantage, and the novices, to their credit, aren't far behind. Gunshots ring through the trees as my mother fires shot after shot. Yelps and whines and growls follow as each bullet hits true to her razor-sharp aim. My uncle slashes at any wolf who gets too close, his knives glimmering crimson and his furious gaze locked on me. The officers are quickly swarmed by wolves and, one after another, the ones who don't surrender fall to their fury. And yet, my mother and Orion fight hard and dirty. My uncle's unwavering focus is a sharp thing; even with the werewolves as a distraction, he's got his sights on me.

The air splits in two as one of his knives rushes right for Rowan's back.

I move without thinking, spinning us around just in time for a jarring impact and an explosion of agony to send me staggering into his arms with a hiss of pain.

"River!" he exclaims, steadying me and glancing over my shoulder. "Fuck. Why would you—?"

"Silver," I gasp.

It hasn't hit anything vital, having buried itself in the muscle of my shoulder blade, and as Rowan descends into a flurry of panicked exclamations, trying to pull me from the heat of the fighting so he can find some help, I push him away.

Reaching over my shoulder and grabbing the hilt, I tear the knife out with a grimace, but the soothing fire of the Haze scorching my veins leaves little room for agony. Every shred of my attention is on Orion. A threat. Holding his own against my pack. Even as they gain on him, forcing him into a retreat, he does not stop fighting. Slashing and grappling and pivoting to keep them at arm's length.

"Stray, what the fuck— are you okay?" I hear Beau's voice in the chaos and find him, wild-eyed and ruffled as he races to our side. He assesses Rowan for injury and finds nothing but the quickly-diminishing mark from my knife at his neck. "We got here as quick as we could and— wait, are you... well, you?" he asks me, gesturing wildly at my form. "You're all Hazy."

And don't I know it.

I don't answer him. I assess the brutal fight raging around us, my fingers itching to send my blades flying and my nerves on fire with rage. Already, most of the officers are dead, the last echo of their screams cutting through the chaos of snarls and yelps as silver weapons meet their marks. The rest — Lance included — have surrendered and discarded their weapons and are guarded by a few snarling, furious wolves.

My mother, surrounded by a hoard of wolves, tosses a gas canister to the forest floor. I just about catch her victorious grin before an explosion of smoke floods the clearing.