Chapter Thirty-Nine: Carol's POV
The first wolf lunged before I could react. Its body was massive, hurtling through the dim light with terrifying speed. I dove sideways, my body moving faster than I thought possible, palms scraping against concrete as I rolled and crouched.
Behind me, Emma's sharp breath sounded small and frightened in the empty warehouse. That sound anchored me, reminded me I wasn't just fighting for myself.
The wolf's claws raked the air where my head had been, close enough that I felt the air brush my cheek. It spun around for another pass.
I scrambled backward, putting myself between it and Emma. My heart was racing, pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. The wolf was enormous, at least twice my size, with gray-brown fur that barely reflected the harsh overhead lights. When it snarled at me, I could see every tooth—each one as long as my thumb and far sharper.
They came at me from different directions, coordinated like they'd trained together many times.
I blocked the first attack instinctively, raising my arm to deflect jaws going for my throat. The impact jolted into my shoulder, pain flashing white across my vision.
But I pushed through it and moved immediately, dodging the second wolf's lunge and driving my elbow hard into the spot behind its ribs. The crack told me it worked. The wolf yelped and staggered sideways, giving me a few precious seconds to regain my footing.
At first they were faster, stronger, better at fighting. They knew how to use their weight and teeth, how to work together to corner prey.
And I was just a girl who'd trained with Marcus for three years and had never actually transformed.
I could feel myself being pushed back, step by step, toward the corner where Emma was huddled.
She pressed against the wall, hands over her mouth, trying to muffle her cries.
My breathing was getting faster and heavier, muscles screaming, begging to hold on just a little longer, to stay standing just a bit more.
But I knew. I couldn't keep this up much longer.
Then something inside me changed.
It started in my chest. Warmth spread outward like spilled honey, slow at first and then faster, flowing into my arms, my legs, all the way to my fingertips.
My body felt like it was burning. The pain in my shoulder began to fade.
When the next wolf lunged at me, I didn't just block it—I met it head-on.
I grabbed its massive head with both hands and used its own momentum to slam it into a stack of rusted metal barrels. The barrels clattered across the floor like thunder.
The power flowing through my body was strong, strong enough to make me feel exhilarated and a little scared. It was so foreign. Part of my brain was screaming: this isn't normal, humans shouldn't move like this, shouldn't fight like this. But I couldn't think about that. I just wanted to survive.
Now I could see more clearly, even in the dark warehouse. I could track the wolves' movements accurately, knowing where they'd attack before they even committed.
My reflexes had sharpened too. Everything around me seemed to slow down half a beat, giving me just enough time to dodge, counter, or strike first.
When one wolf tried to circle behind me, I spun and kicked it in the chest, the force sending it sliding across the concrete floor, claws scrabbling uselessly for purchase.
From the far corner, Emma stared at me with wide eyes, mouth hanging open, like she was seeing something that shouldn't exist.
Her gaze tracked my movements, her face completely blank with shock.
I didn't have time to worry about what she thought of me now, whether she feared the wolves more or feared me, whether our friendship could survive what she was witnessing today.
I could only fight, only move, only keep myself between her and the creatures trying to tear us apart.
The tide of battle began to turn. I wasn't even trying to push it.
Now I was pressing forward, driving the wolves back with relentless strikes. They stumbled and staggered, confusion and fear written all over them.
One wolf tried to lunge for my legs, going for my hamstrings, but I saw through its plan and brought my knee up to meet its jaw. Bone cracked, the sound bouncing off the warehouse walls.
It hit the ground like a stone. Whether unconscious or dead, I couldn't tell and didn't care.
The remaining wolves exchanged glances—too intelligent, too calculating—but before they could regroup.
"Enough." Isabella's voice cut through.
She stepped out from the shadows, fury pressed tight on her face like a layer of ice about to crack.
Her hand emerged from her jacket pocket holding a small black pistol that caught the overhead lights with a cold gleam.
I watched Isabella's fingers tighten slowly on the grip, watched her thumb flick off the safety—the click sharp and clear in the quiet warehouse.
Before I could dodge,The bullet punched into my left arm, just above the elbow.
The pain was like nothing I'd experienced before, burning outward from the wound in waves, turning my vision black at the edges, making my knees weak.
I looked down at my arm, watching blood spill between my fingers.
For a moment I couldn't process what had happened, couldn't reconcile the small hole in my sleeve with the overwhelming pain.
I stood there, shocked and hurting, but something else was happening beneath my skin.
The burning sensation from before intensified, like molten liquid rushing through my veins, all concentrating around the bullet wound.
The gunshot pain was being pushed down, covered somehow. When I moved my blood-slicked hand away to look, the wound was already healing.
I tried flexing my fingers, watching them curl and straighten, completely unaffected.
Isabella's carefully maintained composure finally cracked.
"What are you?" Her voice came out sharp and hoarse. She raised the gun again, steadier this time, aiming higher at my chest where a bullet would do far more damage than one in the arm.
I saw her finger tighten on the trigger, saw the muscles in her forearm tense, preparing for recoil.
I knew. I was out of time.
But before she could pull the trigger, the warehouse door exploded inward.
Simon stood in the doorway. Even across the warehouse I could see the gold light blazing in his eyes, could smell the overwhelming Alpha power radiating from him.
He hadn't transformed, still in human form, but as he swept his gaze silently over everything before him, I saw it and my breath stopped for a beat.
He moved faster than Isabella could react.
The distance from the door to where we stood—he crossed it in what seemed like a single motion.
By the time she realized he'd arrived, he was already there, already standing between me and that gun, his body cutting off all possibilities.
Isabella instinctively shrank back. The pistol slipped from her suddenly nerveless fingers and clattered on the concrete floor.
Simon stared at her with those gold eyes. "Our engagement is cancelled."
"Simon, you can't just—" Her face had gone pale.
But he raised his hand to cut her off, the movement so sharp she flinched backward even though he hadn't touched her at all.
"The Carter family's actions," he continued, his voice devastatingly calm but sending chills down the spine.
"I will investigate everything. Every deal, every alliance, everything that's crossed into my territory in the last six months. If I find even a hint that your family has been working with the Andreas Pack behind my back, if I discover you've been planning something, there will be nowhere in North America for you to hide, nowhere to escape the consequences."
Jack and Marcus emerged from behind Simon. They moved to flank Isabella on either side, gripping her upper arms.
I watched Isabella's body slowly go rigid. She knew she'd lost, that whatever game she'd been playing was over.
After they left, the warehouse suddenly went quiet.
Only then did I realize Simon was looking at me. He walked over, examining my arm, his whole body frozen. "Carol, you were hit with a silver bullet."
"I'm fine," I managed to say, my voice weak and trembling. "It's healing on its own."
He said nothing, just lifted me from the ground with steady, swift movements—completely different from the violence of moments before.
One arm under my knees, the other around my back, and suddenly I was cradled in his arms. His heartbeat pressed against my cheek, fast and heavy. I was startled, and dizzy.
"Leon," he said sharply. Through my haze I realized Leon must have come with him, must have discovered I was gone after I left. "Bring the girl. Call Clara, tell her to meet us at the manor. Now."
Before I lost consciousness, the last thing I saw was Simon's face, and how tense he looked.
"Carol, wake up." His voice wasn't a request but an Alpha command, carrying all his power and authority.
I wanted to answer but had no strength. Could only feel his heartbeat against my ear, steady and strong.
Whatever happened next, I was safe.