A simun hit its side and the creature ripped it apart in its rage. Then let the deep hunger and the lust for blood take over as it killed the beasts around it, not allowing a single one to get close to its pack. It needed to protect them. That was all that mattered.

The beasts swarmed the creature, knowing it was the biggest threat, and tried to subdue it to no avail. The wolves were smart enough to keep out of the creature’s way as it slashed through the beasts with wild rage that terrified them.

“We have to turn him back!” a voice yelled above the sound of battle. It was Nikolai. “The longer he stays in that form the harder it will be to bring him back.”

“Let him kill a few more,” was Katashi’s answer.

But Yuri wouldn’t have it. “Reid.” That single word was filled with so much love and respect. The creature killed the last beast in its way and ran back to the man’s side. “Come on buddy, it’s time to shift. Let’s stop them once and for all, together.” Yuri let his bloody hand rest on the creature's snout.

So warm… The creature licked his hand and hesitantly it started to shift.

I screamed as the darkness struggled to fit itself back into my small useless human body. It hurt. Everything hurt. I couldn’t think, I was reduced to screams and pure agony. And then there was warmth and the scent of the forest and apples. I whimpered and allowed them to surround me in the scent of pack, and pack, and pack. I heard whispers, soft quiet voices trying to comfort me. I opened my eyes.

Salt and pepper hair filled my vision, mussed and bloody and then there were his eyes, light blue, happy. Yuri. And next to me Scott, shaking and clutching my arm, his brown hair dirty.

What? At first I didn’t understand but as my hand touched the torn flesh on Yuri’s side, it all came rushing back, everything that happened, everything I did. “Yuri. Oh god, Yuri! Are you alright! I’m so sorry!” What have I done… I would never forgive myself… I almost killed my best friend.

“I’ll be fine...” he said and there was a small smile on his lips. “But you really scared me there, Reid…” He gave a dry chuckle then pulled me close to him, almost choking me. But I almost killed him, I wasn’t about to complain about a crushing hug.

Scott practically had to drag us both up to our feet, my body protesting with a dull ache. A robe was thrown over my shoulders. I turned around and came face to face with Trystan. Oh… Oh, I clearly remembered all his words. He was all for killing me on the spot.

But before I could say anything he offered me the handle of a sword. “The fight is not over,” he said.

I looked around the front yard. The wolves have retreated, dealing with the last few beasts together with my other siblings and the warriors. The witch was gone. But the mercenary woman was still here engaged in a fight with Father.

“I’ll take Yuri to Holly,” Scott said and I nodded.

“No! I need to stay here. Together, right?” He looked up at me, clutching his torn body. His legs were trembling but he stood on his own, plain stubbornness on his face. The bond in my soul throbbed, making me shiver. It felt so weird, all that devotion in his eyes… Was it always there?

“If you die, I’m taking your stuff,” I warned him with absolute seriousness. He grinned, his teeth and lips covered in blood. The guilt felt like someone crushing my ribs. Fuck.

“God, I hate you guys,” Scott grumbled but in the end we all stood shoulder to shoulder, ready to fight.

My muscles felt stiff, but there was no time to rest. Barefooted, only covered by a robe, I ran at the last of the beasts, thrusting my sword through the skulls of the cadracs by muscle memory only. I was tired, aching and my mind was on Yuri and Scott and… Matt. Where was he in all of this? Fortunately, I have killed most of the beasts already, it was just the last few stragglers.

And then we all turned to the fight in the middle of the front yard. The wolves left to take care of the wounded. The people that stayed in human form made a circle around Father and the mercenary Olivia. I joined them, feeling my blood boil with anger, but I knew better than to mess with Father’s fight.

The mercenary had two short swords while Father had a long sword which gave him a slight disadvantage. Still, he was winning. She ran at him, obviously knowing she was losing. My chest was filled with anxiety when she managed to run one sword through Father’s shoulder. He took it with a grunt and then hit her over the head with the hilt of his sword. She fell to the ground, stunned with blood pouring down the side of her face.

Father pulled the sword out of his shoulder with a stone-cold expression, his eyes as grey as mine. “You have come to my territory, my town and you hurt the members of my pack. You killed my beta,” he growled out in a dangerously low voice.

“This is not the end,” she grunted.

“It is for you,” Alistair said and the power of his existence came pouring out of his body, making everyone shudder. “The Ghealach pack will not forgive your behavior.”

The wolf in me howled its revenge and bloodthirstiness. I wished I could sink my fangs into her. For Bran. Father raised his sword.

And then he handed it to me.

Few people gasped, some glared. Trystan opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it in the face of Alistair’s power.

“It’s your revenge, Reid,” he said. I grabbed the sword, my chest tight with a weird feeling in my heart as I looked at him. “You were closer to Bran than any of us.” His eyes turned mossy green, filled with grief and sorrow. My hand tightened around the hilt as he let go, stepping back.

“You. It’s all your fault,” she said from where she sat on the ground, swaying a little, probably with a concussion. “How did you break the spell?” she asked, narrowing her eyes on me.

“Don’t ever underestimate the bonds of a pack,” I simply said and swung the sword. I was a werewolf with supernatural strength and the sword was sharp. It sliced through her neck with minimal effort. She finally lay dead...

I closed my eyes and let the sword clatter to the ground. Finally, one of them was dead. I felt tears forcing their way out of me. Damn it this did not make me feel as good as I thought it would. The mercenary was gone. And Bran was still dead. He was gone. Forever. Because of this woman. Because she needed me to come back to Silver Springs. He was dead. As the tears ran down my face I felt Father’s hand rest on the back of my neck and then I had my forehead on his shoulder while he held me close and his own tears fell on my nape.

The wolves howled all around us. It was the song of both victory and grief.