Lost in Worlds

Stinging Cheek and Fireflies

An hour later, Connor had ordered majority of the Pack to only follow the group and himself to the edge of the forest before lining up and watching got the cue to step in. It had taken a while for Ahli to teleport the Pack–counting in groups of twenties, near the Queen's Palace. Ahli had been panting profusely by the end of it, so close to burn out that Connor had given a second order for it to rest until further notice.

Midnight came. Connor and his closest friends, excluding the stolen Sam and Avery, readied their defences by the Palace gates. They were well aware of the Pack members sheathing swords alongside them, checking for useful hidden daggers, some even loading guns to put the Pack at an advantage of shooting from longer distances should it be needed. Connor, prepared to declare battle. He pulled the lever attached to a rifle, loading a fresh bullet.

Everything went silent. No more werewolves–still in their human form, murmuring or preparing weapons. No shuffling of feet. Connor had gone into a primal quiet, fury burning an insatiable fire that bubbled in his veins. His mate–tortured. A growl erupted from his throat, the emotion he had held in finally bursting at the seams. No one spoke a word as he inhaled deeply, pushed the trigger and fired the rifle.

A faint ringing in the distance followed soon after. The tune of the Queen's cavalry. Louder, louder, louder. It infuriated Connor. Not just the sound of the Queen's bloody army but also the thought of his mate stuck behind such walls and...

The plan had been to wait until a specific time to the battle to release their wolves. Connor now trembled, trying desperately to hold his wolf back. His canines elongated, feet raking back and forth on the dirt as he steadied himself into an offensive position.

The Palace gates opened. Mila and Clyde crouched behind one side of the gates, the determined Will and Connor on the other side. Peeking around the wall, Connor saw nothing that may have signified someone to be there. He placed a foot in front of him; leaning outward, he scanned the ghost-like courtyard.

Clyde then made the mistake of breathing too deep. A sneeze followed the effect of pollen from the flora surrounding the area. The noise caught some of the Pack off guard. Enough so that even as Connor jumped back from the arrow shooting through the open gates a moment later, the weapon still pierced a pack member on the front line.

The Queen knew their weakness all too well for almost immediately, the soldier collapsed to the forest floor. While poisoned arrows covered in what Connor assumed to be wolfs bane, could do significant damage to a werewolf, the aftermath of the fallen soldier remained the Pack's greatest risk. Sobs from the fallen soldier's friends and family sounded. Some were angry, hands fisted by their sides, often growling.

Connor swore, vulnerability had now been shown amongst the Pack and it may end up being the cause of their downfall. Howls echoed around the edge of the forest, the Pack mourning such an early loss. The soldier had barley reached the age of eighteen. Connor watched as the Healers placed both the unconscious, dying soldier and his mate on separate stretchers before pulling them away from the front line. Connor turned his back on the disappearing casualty and crying mate–many more would lay in a similar position by early morning.

Wheels sounded from within the Palace courtyard, the Pack now standing on high alert. He draped a hand around the Palace gates and peered into the courtyard. At first, he had thought it might have been another one of the Queen's guards or a mini-tray of weapons being dragged by servants. Instead came out a wagon containing the two people that made his heart skip several beats, along with the dreadful Queen. His hands turned clammy and all the Alpha training he'd been given couldn't have prepared him for such a sight.

Funnily enough, Sam and Avery appeared fine, perhaps a tad pale, but nothing drastic. That's what frightened him the most. They each had their hands tied behind their backs with a piece of rope, tight. He didn't think on it, for the thoughts that next raced through his mind alarmed him as he took a jolting step backwards. The emotional manipulation and trauma his friend and mate would have gone through-