Chapter 118 Mistwood Reckoning
Chase's POV
I risked a glance back and saw chaos blooming—one operative with weapon raised at shadows, another backing away from invisible horrors, even the leader looking shaken as the fog pressed in with suffocating weight.
And the children—
The little girl stumbled, her mechanical movements faltering.
The red-black glow flickered like a candle in wind, and for just a moment confusion crossed her face, awareness trying to break through the control.
The mist is interfering, I realized. Now. While they're distracted.
Through the Bond, I sent the signal. Wynter immediately changed direction, circling wide through the mist with silent grace. I felt her moving like a ghost, felt her focus narrowing to a single objective—get to those children.
"Jax," I said quietly. "Distraction. Keep their attention on me."
He melted into the mist. Moments later, rocks hit trees in the distance, sounds echoing strangely. Then Jax's voice, distorted, seeming to come from everywhere at once.
"Over here! I found a path!"
"This way! I can see the edge!"
The operatives' formation shattered as they tried to track the sounds, their training dissolving under the combined assault of illusions and misdirection.
Which left me free to do what I did best—draw fire.
I let my Alpha presence flare deliberately, sending out a pulse of power that cut through the mist like a beacon. Every wolf within a hundred yards would feel it, would turn toward that authority.
"There!" the leader's voice. "Sterling! I've got a lock!"
The distinctive click of a weapon being armed. Anti-Alpha tech.
Let them think they have the advantage, I told myself. Let them focus on me instead of Wynter.
Through the Bond, I felt her reaching the children, felt her hands closing around the little girl's arm just as the control signal flickered again. The girl's eyes cleared completely, awareness flooding back—
The gunshot was deafening.
But it wasn't aimed at me.
The leader had spotted Wynter, had seen her reaching for the children, and in that split second he'd made his choice—
No.
Silver fire—
Wynter's scream through the Bond—
My body already moving, exploding forward with every ounce of Alpha speed, the bullet meant for her chest tearing through my shoulder instead, liquid agony flooding my veins the instant before her terror spiked into pain that wasn't hers—
Keep going! I roared through our connection, tasting blood, feeling poison spread, watching her stumble with my agony but not stop, never stop— Get them out! Don't stop!
I felt her hesitation, felt her desperate need to come to me warring with understanding that the mission came first. Then her determination solidified, diamond-hard, and she was moving again, pulling the little girl with her while Jax grabbed the boy.
The leader swore, swinging his weapon back toward me. "You're going to regret that, Sterling."
"Probably," I managed, my left arm hanging useless as silver poisoning began radiating outward from the wound. "But not as much as you're going to regret following us in here."
I let my Alpha presence flare again, brighter, more aggressive—a challenge every operative would feel like a physical blow.
The mist thickened. The Mistwood's illusions took full hold.
Within seconds, the hunting party dissolved—one operative firing wildly at phantoms, another grappling with his own teammate, a third curled on the ground with hands over his ears, the leader's voice cracking as he screamed orders no one heard anymore.
I stumbled backward, using the chaos to retreat. Every step sent fresh agony through my shoulder as silver continued spreading, and I could feel my body's healing trying desperately to fight the poison and failing.
The silver's moving toward my heart, I realized. I can feel it in my bloodstream.
Through the Bond, Wynter felt my fear. Chase! Where are you? I can feel—oh God, the silver—
I'm fine, I lied. Just get those kids somewhere safe. I'll catch up.
You're not fine! Her mental voice sharp with terror. Chase, I can feel you dying through the Bond. Don't you dare lie to me!
Not dying, I sent back. Just... delayed. Five minutes.
Five minutes, she finally agreed, her mental voice breaking. Then I'm coming back whether you're ready or not.
Deal.
I forced myself deeper into the Mistwood, leading the confused operatives further into the maze. Behind me, paranoia made them turn on each other—voices rising in accusation, the sounds of vicious struggle, discipline meaning nothing against ancient magic.
I used the confusion to slip away, following the pull of the Bond. Every step was agony, my left arm useless, the silver burn spreading across my chest in creeping tendrils that made breathing difficult.
Just a little further, I told myself. Just need to reach them.
Then the mist cleared slightly, and I saw them—Wynter and Jax with the two children, far enough from the Mistwood's heart that illusions had lost their grip.
Wynter saw me and her face went white. "Chase!"
I tried to answer, tried to tell her I was fine, but my legs gave out. I felt myself falling, felt the ground rushing up—
Then Wynter was there, catching me, easing me down with shaking hands.
"You idiot," she breathed, her voice breaking. "You absolute idiot."
Through the Bond, I felt her examining the wound, felt her horror at how deep the silver had spread. My shoulder was blackened flesh where the bullet had entered, skin around it turning gray.
"Silver poisoning," Jax said grimly, kneeling beside us. "We need to extract the fragments. Now."
"Do it," I managed. "Fast."