Everything was happening too quickly.

I'd been shuffled inside of the pack house in order to grant permission of entrance to all applicable parties. It took longer than I'd thought it would, but, then again, the sheer size of the Black Lupis pack always seemed to amaze me. I also granted access to the witch coven, but not a single rogue stepped forward to ask for refuge in the pack house. I wondered if Dominic gave that order.

Shortly after we'd situated things with the enchanted pack house, Lizzie accompanied me to an upstairs bedroom in the mansion in order to wash myself of Nolan's scent-- again.

"I didn't get to say goodbye to him," I protested, faltering on the staircase as I looked back down to the crowded living room. Nolan wasn't anywhere in sight.

Lizzie frowned, following my gaze for a moment before gently nudging me forward, closer to the stop of the stairwell. "Don't think of it as goodbye," she chided.

Of course, I knew that she was right. My doubts would not encourage anyone in the face of battle. Besides, I faintly remembered hearing that Nolan was headed out to the training yard in order to help Dylan organize fighting units and leaders. I would only be a distraction.

Finally, I relented, slowly ascending the last steps to the second floor of the packhouse. When we reached the bedroom, Lizzie set about searching for a suitable, freshly washed outfit that had likely never been even looked at by Nolan, and I stripped down to just my skin and stepped in the shower.Scalding water peppered my skin as I mercilessly scrubbed every inch of myself with the strong scent of Irish Spring. A few minutes later, any trace of Nolan on my skin was washed down the drain.

Lizzie managed to find a pair of thick legging and a tight-knit athletic top that could have acted as a second skin. If I had actually been capable of fighting, the outfit would have been perfect for quick movements against my enemies... Too bad I'll be locked inside with the elders and children.

Hesitating, I lifted the shirt-sleeve to my nose and sniffed. Not a trace of peppermint or pine. And I was certain that my fear had masked any remnants of the lusty scent that had lingered after my earlier encounter with Nolan.

I exited the bathroom to find the bedroom empty. Lizzie must have already departed to join the preparations. I was alone.

After braiding my hair, I made my way back down the stairs to the living room, where most of its previous occupants had left to begin preparing for the battle. Only the oldest and youngest members of the Black Lupis Pack remained, including Abby and her baby.

Landon slept soundly in his mother's warm embrace, utterly oblivious to the impending war on our doorstep. I couldn't help but smile at the baby's innocence. Landon's only worries were teething pains and when he could next fill his belly with his mother's milk. I ripped my gaze from the smallest member of the pack to his mother, whose eyes were brimmed with worry.

Abby had so much to lose. We all did.

It took some effort, but I managed to pull a half-hearted smile on my lips as Abby's eyes locked onto mine. I could remain optimistic for her and the rest of the pack members who would be waiting inside while loved-ones fought.

Abby didn't bother attempting to share my smile as her gaze drifted slowly back to the baby in her arms. For a moment, I couldn't help wondering if I'd ever have the chance to hold Nolan's child in my arms. The chance to become a mother myself-- to understand a mother's love.

A thick lump formed in my throat, and I quickly spun to look out the window before any of the living room occupants could notice. Outside, werewolves, witches, and rogues scrambled to find their squadron, develop strategies, or simply share a laugh with an old friend one last time. I began looking through the glass for my friends and family.

Despite myself, my eyes first landed on Dominic. He barked orders to a group of rogues and Black Lupis werewolves alike. Rogue or not, Dominic was born an alpha... In just the past twenty-four hours, he'd done so much good. He'd put himself on the line over and over again, and I knew that he'd do it a thousand times over for me. For my forgiveness. Would he survive the battle? Did I even care if he did?

I ripped my gaze from him before my mind had the chance to answer the question.

It didn't take long to find Nolan. Shifted into his wolf form, he was a towering mass of black fur and muscle, undoubtedly communicating to the rest of the pack via mind-link. I could only wonder what they were saying to one another.

I watched for a few moments, chewing on my bottom lip, as Nolan stalked through the clearing and stopped in front of a group of smaller she-wolves. Without missing a beat, Nolan rubbed his muzzle against a light-grey female's neck, and she returned the favor. I only grew uncomfortable when the intimate act continued for longer than five-seconds.

"What the--!" I growled, fingers curling and uncurling at the sight. I spun around, no longer content to sit by the window and watch, but ran directly into another's body. Angelina, the youngest witch.

She let out a small "oomph" at our collision, but something like laughter danced in her copper gaze, "Sorry, I figured you knew I was here, but I guess you were a bit preoccupied?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" I muttered, eyebrows still angled downward in disbelief and anger.

Angelina only grinned, "Don't pretend like you're not fuming at the sight of your alpha rubbing up against another female." I crossed my arms against my chest in annoyance, but the witch only continued, "Relax! He's just spreading his scent on the other she-wolves... You know, the ones that will probably be targeted and die first in order to keep you safe?"

Her words bit into me like a freshly-carved knife. Angelina pointed, redirecting my attention back to the window, where Nolan now nuzzled another she-wolf with shockingly bright, white fur. He bit the scruff of the female, only further marking her with his scent. The sight made me want to gag.

And, Moon Goddess, I felt foolish. I was jealous of the women who were sacrificing their lives to save mine. These females would be targeted first, while I hid away in the packhouse. Shame crept up my neck and heated my cheeks.

"Look, Angelina, I wish that there was something I could do," I turned to face the dark-skinned girl once more. Laughter no longer sparkled in her unique gaze. I sighed, "If it were up to me, I'd march out of the house right now and hand myself over to the hybrids."

Angelina remained quiet for a long moment, pursing her full lips together and picking at a little piece of skin hanging off of her thumb. Finally, she spoke again, "Well, what if I told you there is something you can do?"

I let out a long breath that I hadn't realized I'd been holding, "I'll do anything."

"We'll see about that," the mysterious young witch replied, before holding a finger to her lips in a silent gesture for secrecy. She nodded her head toward the stairs and began heading in that direction, leaving me to follow.

When we reached a random bedroom at the top of the stairs, an invisible force closed the door behind us. Magic. I shivered at the familiar prickle that crept down my back.

Angelina turned back to face me, a new sort of urgency running rampant in her words, "Look, a few weeks ago, when my mother told me of an impending battle, I started researching spells."

She trailed off, copper eyes shifting to the corners of the room as if she were worried that some invisible spirit were listening to our conversation. I let out an impatient sigh, "Spit it out!"

The witch ground her teeth together, and I thought I saw her mind working to piece together an explanation for me. Finally, before my patience wore too thin, Angelina continued, "Well, you see... It wasn't actually in the grimoire. It was penciled into the margins. On a page about cheating death."

She carefully gauged my reaction, but I kept my emotions sealed, nodding for her to continue. "If it works, you would, hypothetically, be able to die, pass into the afterlife, and return to the world of the living after a short amount of time... More or less."

My stomach twisted into a knot, and my lungs stopped working. This did not sound like witchcraft. It sounded like black magic. On any other day, I might have balked at the very idea of it. But I was desperate. "How?"

The beautiful witch blinked, as if shocked that I did not outright refuse her offer, "Well, we would take an object, like a ring or a necklace."

She rummaged around in her pocket and eventually pulled out an object curled in her fist. She unraveled her fingers and presented the blasted, emerald talisman that I, truthfully, didn't want to see again in my life.

"A magical object like the emerald would likely do the job well," Angelina mused to herself, eyes studying the powerful ring carefully. "And we would bind your life to the ring. Temporarily, of course."

"Of course," I choked, my head spinning.

She twirled the ring around in her fingers, "I would enchant it, you would slip it onto your finger, and then you would die. You would pass into the afterlife, but the ring would pull you back—like a tether. And then bam: You are resurrected."

I wanted to puke, "So simple?"

Naturally, a dozen scenarios rampaged through my mind, each one revolving around the risks of failure. Every ounce of common-sense within my body shouted at me to refuse, and yet, I found myself nodding. "Have you done it before?"

Angelina smiled, as if she had been waiting for me to ask this question. "Yes! Once, on a cat! It was successful."

For half of a second, I was certain that my soul had departed from my body. "Oh, Moon Goddess. Angelina, I am a human! A werewolf! Not a cat!"

I didn't realize that I'd been shouting until Angelina held a furious finger to her lips once more, "Shhh! Don't you think I know this? Besides, your more capable cognizant abilities will make it easier for you to return from the afterlife."

My knuckles bleached, and I wanted to curse myself for even considering Angelina's sketchy black magic. I whisper-shouted at the witch, "How do you know?!"

Angelina rolled her eyes, evidence that her own patience was running low. "If a cat can find its way back to the living, I'm sure you can do it too, Charlie."

If she didn't possess the magic of an entire coven at her fingertips, I might have slapped her. Somehow, I managed to swallow the panic-driven anger that threatened to spill off of my lips, and leveled a careful stare at the witch. "You've failed to mention one thing, Angelina."

She lifted a carefully manicured brow, a silent question. Oh really?

"What do you plan on accomplishing with the spell? Besides offering me an all-expenses paid trip to the afterlife?"

Despite the sarcasm dripping from my words, Angelina's copper gaze became deadly serious. She shook her head, "Don't you see? We need time more than anything. The hybrids are only bringing a small portion of their army. It is small enough that we might have a shot of winning-- at least until the larger host arrives."

Angelina didn't give me a chance to interrupt. "We wait until the battle is nearly won, and then you leave the safety of the pack house. You'll kill yourself or let a hybrid do it for you, pretending like you're sacrificing yourself. How you do it doesn't matter.

"All that matters is that Nolan believes that you are dead. His reaction will be enough to indicate your true identity, and the surviving hybrids will flee to inform their leaders that you have perished. The main hybrid host will continue its crusade on the East Coast packs, you'll wake up a few hours later, and we will be given more time to figure out a way to banish the bastards back to hell."

I swallowed, allowing Angelina's words to wash over me and sink into my pores.

Sacrifice myself in order to trick the surviving hybrids.

Send them scurrying back to the East Coast with news of my death.

Postpone the arrival of the main hybrid host, at least for a short amount of time, while we searched for the true key to exterminating the abominations...

Finally, I found the strength to speak. "How do we start?"