Chapter 31 Chapter 31
~ Reynard POV ~
I was 13.
I had spent the day with my best friend while my parents were out on their civil duties. Dad was the head of the military – an inspiring and powerful warrior, and Mum was a mentor for youngling werewolves – helping them learn what to expect as they grow and connect with their inner wolf.
My parents were my hope and motivation; they were everything I aspired to be: good, selfless and kind. They did everything to ensure others were comfortable and safe, even me.
That day, they were out much later, together on an important task on behalf of the Alpha. To this day, I still don’t know what the task was.
When evening hit, it was like any other night in the Moonstone pack, full of peace and quiet.
Looking back, I realised how tired they were when they returned home. They always were; they gave their jobs 120%, always more and never less. Even though they were exhausted, when they walked through the door, they greeted me with joy and excitement.
We ate dinner together and played a couple of board games before watching a movie – they let me stay up late since it was the weekend, but I was out all day too. I fell asleep during the movie, and Dad carried me to bed.
Our last evening together was full of so much joy that it almost seemed unfair what was next to come.
In the middle of the night, the sound of glass breaking awoke me. I shot up, feeling a sense of unease. The noise didn’t seem to have woken my parents; they were drained from a hectic day but still stayed awake to spend time with me.
I thought it was probably nothing until I heard movement downstairs. Some stupid wave of bravery took over in me, and I decided to go investigate.
The traits of my wolf senses had only just begun to manifest. Seeing in the dark had come to me first, and slightly enhanced hearing followed, but at that point, there were no other enhanced senses yet, no strength or speed, or rapid healing that had appeared yet.
Stepping out of my bedroom, I made my way to the top of the stairs, ready to sneak downstairs and see what the noise was, and that’s when I saw them at the base – three men, their identities shielded with balaclavas, and each of them holding weapons: a knife, a gun and a metal baseball bat wrapped with barbed wire.
They were wandering around in the dark, torches pointed to the ground, so they hadn’t seen me yet. I was thankful I was able to see in the dark at that moment, but my fear got the better of me. As I stepped back, I bumped into a table in the hallway, making enough noise to catch their attention.
A bright light of the torch shot my way. It felt like they were staring at me for hours before they rushed up the stairs towards me.
“MUM! DAD!” I cried out as I tried to run away, but one of the men leapt forward and grabbed my ankle. I croaked in pain as my chest thudded against the ground. As I called out for my mother again, the man who dragged me down hauled me closer to him and slapped his hand around my mouth, muffling my screaming.
I clawed at the ground, trying to get any sort of grip to pull myself away from him, but I had no strength yet.
He flipped me over and pressed his knife to my neck. “I’ve got a young one,” he said proudly to his accomplices, “the boss will be interested to work on you.” Though his face was covered, I could see the evil joy beaming from his eyes. As I went to scream, he pressed the knife firmer against my neck, drawing a small amount of blood.
My cries were muffled; I had no power of my own to fight back. I was just a kid… I was practically human.
“Hand over the needle,” the man who pinned me down demanded.
His partner handed him a syringe with a bluish-purple substance. I knew instantly it was wolfsbane, but before I could do anything about it, the man had already stabbed it and injected it into my arm.
I shuddered, feeling the cold liquid run through my veins. Whoever these invaders were, either they had no idea that wolfsbane had a different effect on younglings – only that it made us slow, tired and cold, sometimes with flu-like symptoms – or that’s exactly how they intended my body to react. It didn’t burn and rip us apart from the inside out, as it did for fully grown werewolves.
A body shot over my head, forcing the man off me and tumbling down the stairs.
“Dad…” I groaned weakly.
Mum appeared above my head. “Reynard,” her voice was hoarse and frail, “you’re okay, I’m here.”
One of the men charged towards us, picking up the knife the other had dropped beside me, and lunged for us.
Mum had pulled me up to my feet and rushed me down the hall and into her bedroom, using her wolf speed.
The mixture of the speed and the wolfsbane made the room spin, and my stomach churn. I pressed my palm against the wall to steady myself as Mum pushed the set of drawers towards the door. That’s when I noticed her struggle even more.
She was pushing with one hand and holding her stomach with the other, trying to hide the blood seeping out of her.
Scurrying over to her, I wept, “Mum… we need to get you help.”
Mum shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine, I’ll heal,” she groaned.
I tried to help her push the drawers, but just as we were about to cover the door, two of the men barged in. The one with the gun didn’t even hesitate as he raised it and shot it in my mother’s stomach.
“Mum, no!” I rushed over to her as she collapsed to the ground. “Just hold on.” My knowledge of first aid was slim to none, but her wounds weren’t fatal, thankfully, because of her rapid healing.
“Looks like you’re the least injured, so we’ll take you, kid,” the gunman said as he pulled me off my bleeding mother.
Balling my hands into fists, I fought as hard as I could to prevent him from taking me away to wherever the hell he wanted to, but I was no match for them. He pinned me against the wall and made me watch as the other man went over to my mother as she struggled on the ground in pain, injected her with wolfsbane and slit her throat.
The howling cry that escaped me in that moment would’ve awakened the neighbours, I hoped at least, but it did summon a protective rage within my father.
As the men dragged me out of my parents’ bedroom and down the hallway, my father stood over the man who had pinned me down, now unconscious. Even overwhelmed, my father thought wisely to keep him alive for questioning, even though I know every fibre of his being told him to rip his head off.
When he saw me, he charged towards us, ready to take on an army solo if he had to. He grabbed one man and threw him over the landing edge, sending him thumping down the stairs, and dived into the other man, throwing punch after punch in his face.
I crawled back towards my mother, but the wolfsbane was taking its toll on me. “Dad,” I cried out, “Mum… Mum needs help!”
Dad shoved the other man away and bolted beside Mum just as I approached her, too. The pain in his eyes as he watched his mate dying in front of him would forever be embedded in my mind, etching a fear of my own.
“Do something,” I wept.
He took hold of Mum’s hand and looked deep in her eyes – now I know he was talking to her through their bond, probably telling her how much he loved her – and then he looked at me.
In that moment, I knew he was telling me to say goodbye, but I didn’t want to. Yet I had to put on a brave face, so I took her hand, and I whispered to her that I loved her. As she drifted off, I felt as if my heart had been ripped out of my chest.
Dad gasped and growled, “Get down!”