"Why? What did you hear?"
Cora grabbed her arm, pulling her back toward the path with surprising strength. "We are being watched," she hissed.
As they hurried back along the trail, Elara's senses prickled with awareness. The forest that had seemed peaceful now felt ominous. Shadows moved between trees. Branches rustled when no wind blew. And once, she could have sworn she saw a flash of metal. A gun or a knife catching the sunlight.
"Viktor's scouts," Cora whispered as they half ran toward the house. "They are all around the territory borders. Watching. Waiting."
"For what?"
"For you." Cora's grip on her arm tightened. "They have found you. And they are not going to stop until they have you for the ritual."
The house came into view, its stone and timber walls suddenly representing safety rather than confinement. But before they could reach it, three figures stepped onto the path ahead of them. Men dressed in dark clothing, their faces expressionless. Their movements synchronized with predatory grace.
Not human. Werewolves. Viktor's wolves.
Cora pushed Elara behind her. Her body tensed as if preparing to shift. "Run," she ordered. "Back to the house. I'll hold them off."
"I cannot leave you,"
"Run!" Cora's voice dropped to a growl. Her features began to sharpen as her wolf surfaced. "Now!"
Elara turned and sprinted back toward the Crescent Moon Pack's house. Her heart was hammering in her chest. Behind her, she heard Cora's human voice give way to a feral snarl. Followed by sounds of struggle, growls, the impact of bodies hitting the forest floor, and a pained yelp that might have been Cora or one of the attackers.
She ran faster. Her lungs burned. Branches whipping at her face. The pendant bounced against her throat with each step. Unusually hot against her skin, as if responding to her fear.
When strong arms suddenly circled her waist from behind, lifting her clear off the ground, Elara did not think; she reacted. Opening her mouth, she released a scream infused with every ounce of terror and power she could muster.
The sound that emerged was like nothing she had ever produced before. It vibrated through the forest. Causing birds to take flight and leaves to tremble on their branches. The arms around her went suddenly slack. Dropping her to the ground.
Scrambling to her feet, Elara turned to see her attacker. A man in his thirties with a military style haircut, on his knees, blood trickling from his ears. His eyes were wide with shock and pain.
"How," he gasped, then coughed, spitting blood onto the forest floor.
Elara backed away, horrified by what her voice had done. "I did not mean to," she almost pleaded.
"Elara!" Damon's voice cut through the forest. He appeared on the path, running at inhuman speed, eyes blazing gold. Behind him came several pack members, including Thorian and Lucas.
Relief flooded through her, so intense it nearly brought her to her knees. "Cora," she managed to say. "Back there. She was fighting,"
Damon nodded sharply to Thorian and Lucas, who immediately sprinted in the direction Elara indicated. Then he turned to the man, who was still kneeling on the forest floor.
"One of Viktor's," he growled, hauling the man up by his collar. "How many more of you are out there?"
The man's laugh was wet with blood. "Enough," he wheezed. "The Alpha wants his Siren. And what Viktor wants, Viktor gets."
"Not this time," Damon said, his voice deadly quiet.
Before Elara could process what was happening, Damon's hand shot out, grasping the man's throat. With a single, brutal motion, he snapped the infiltrator's neck.
The body dropped to the ground. Lifeless. Damon turned to Elara, his expression a complex mixture of rage and concern.
"Are you hurt?" he demanded.
She shook her head, unable to tear her gaze from the dead man. Damon had killed him without hesitation. Without mercy. It should have terrified her. Instead, a small, dark part of her felt relieved. Protected.
"Damon!" Thorian's voice called from the forest. "We need you here!"
Damon hesitated, clearly torn between going to Cora and staying with Elara.
"Go," she said, finding her voice. "I can make it back to the house."
After another moment's hesitation, he nodded. "Stay on the path. Do not stop for anything." Then he was gone. Moving with that unnatural speed toward his sister and the other pack members.
Elara continued toward the house, her legs shaky but determined. The encounter had left her badly shaken. But also strangely awakened. Her scream had incapacitated a werewolf without a full song. Just as her voice had silenced Damon's wolf at the pub. The power Cora had described. The ability to command wolves. Could it be real?
She had almost reached the porch when Cora appeared from the forest path, supported by Lucas and Thorian. Her clothes were torn and bloody. Her face was scratched. But she was alive and walking.
"Cora!" Elara rushed toward her. "Are you alright?"
"I have had worse," Cora managed. Though her wince betrayed the pain she was in. "They were not expecting me to shift. Gave me the advantage for a moment."
"Where is Damon?" a worried pack member asked as they helped Cora toward the house.
"Still in the forest," Thorian answered, his usual hostility absent as he supported Cora's other side. "Tracking the rest of Viktor's scouts."
Once inside, Marlowe took charge, directing Cora to a sofa while she gathered medical supplies. Nadia appeared quickly with a bowl of fragrant herbs. Her concerned gaze shifted between Cora and Elara. The wounds. Elara noticed with amazement, were already beginning to close, werewolf healing, apparently.
"You saved me," Elara said quietly to Cora, kneeling beside the sofa. "Why? After everything your pack has gone through with Sirens,"
Cora's gaze was direct, unflinching despite her injuries. "Because I know what it is like to be caught between worlds. To be feared for what you are instead of who you are." She glanced toward the door, where several anxious pack members hovered. "And because I made a choice a long time ago about which side I stand on."
Before Elara could ask what she meant, Cora lowered her voice to a whisper. "Listen to me. Viktor would not stop. Those scouts were just the beginning. If you stay here, you might be putting the entire pack at risk."
"Are you saying I should leave?" Elara whispered back, confusion swirling through her.
"I am saying I can help you escape," Cora replied, her voice barely audible. "Tonight. After everyone's asleep."
Elara stared at her in shock. "But Damon,"
"My brother is trying to protect you, the only way he knows how. By controlling the situation." Cora's expression softened slightly. "He means well. But he is also putting the pack at risk. And he is making you a prisoner in the process."
The truth of those words struck Elara hard. She was a prisoner here, regardless of how comfortable her cage might be.
"If I agree," she said slowly, "where would I go? Viktor's scouts are watching the territory. Jonah Thornwood is hunting me in town. I have nowhere safe."
"I know people," Cora said. "Other supernaturals who exist outside pack structures. They can hide you until we figure out a more permanent solution."
The offer was tempting. Freedom. A chance to escape both Viktor's plans and Damon's protective custody. But something about it did not quite add up.
"Why would you help me?" Elara asked. "You barely know me."
Cora's smile was enigmatic. "Let's just say I have my reasons." Her gaze shifted to the window. Her expression grew more serious. "Meet me at the east garden gate at midnight. I will have transportation waiting."
Before Elara could respond, the front door burst open. Damon strode in. His clothes torn and bloodied. His expression was thunderous. Behind him came Thorian and several other pack members, all looking grim.
"Viktor's scouts were all around our territory," Damon announced, his voice carrying through the house. "At least a dozen. Maybe more. They were coordinating. Establishing positions."
"For what?" Marlowe asked, appearing from the kitchen with medical supplies.
"An extraction," Damon said, his gaze finding Elara. "They were preparing to take her."
A chill ran through Elara at his words. The scouts she and Cora had encountered were not just watching. They were planning an abduction.
"This is exactly what I warned about," Thorian said, not bothering to lower his voice. "Her presence brings danger to our doorstep. Viktor would never have dared breach our territory otherwise."
Murmurs of agreement rose from several pack members who had gathered in the large living area. The hostility Elara had felt at breakfast was returning. Intensified by the attack.
"Enough," Damon growled. "We will double patrols. No one goes into the forest alone. And Elara stays under constant guard."
His eyes met hers across the room. His expression was unreadable. "You are not leaving this house until we have dealt with Viktor's threat. I cannot protect you if you are beyond these walls."
The words were reasonable. Protective, even. But all Elara heard was the sound of her cage door slamming shut.
Her gaze shifted to Cora, who watched her brother with a mixture of affection and exasperation. The offer of escape hung between them. Unspoken but present.
Tonight at midnight. The east garden gate. Freedom or capture awaited beyond the pack's territory. And time was running out to decide which risk to take.
The pendant at her throat pulsed once. In the forest beyond the house, wolves began to howl. Damon's patrols, communicating positions, and securing the boundaries against intruders.