A knock on the door cut short our discussion and when the door opened, I watched as a tall, impressively built man strolled into the room.
I didn't need to be told I was staring at the Alpha of the Night Blood Pack—everything in him said as much.
He moved into the room noiselessly, cocooned in the dimness of the room. He was lean and tall with deep, black hair with long strands that fell over his face. He was all angles—chiseled jaw, angled face, and sharp cheekbones. His eyes were steel, cold, and void of any emotions.
“Welcome to the Night Blood Pack, Sophia. I am Nikolai.” His voice held darkness.
I didn’t know how else to describe it except that there was barely any warmth to him. Nikolai seemed cold and at arm's length; he somewhat reminded me of Natalie but I couldn’t exactly point a finger as to what the correlation was except for the fact that they both seemed extremely cold-hearted and detached.
I cleared my throat, still affected by what Ophelia had just told me.
“Thank you for having me here,” I said in a clear voice.
“Your Alpha offered something in return, do not thank me,” he replied coolly.
I nodded. “Of course.”
“Ophelia told me something interesting about your original pack and her mate’s traitorous ways.”
I glanced at my uncle’s wife and she nodded at me as though telling me it was okay and that I could trust the man before me, the one who looked untrustworthy. But how could I judge? I had trusted Isla and it had ended with her killing my sister.
“She just told me the same,” I said and they both watched me, waiting for me to say more, but I didn’t know what else to say. My mind was reeling with a myriad of thoughts as I thought about my father who was back home and had never lifted a hand to help his daughter, and even when I had done as the treaty condition required, he still had Silviu come to return me to Alexander.
What could I do to save him? To save my mother?
And suddenly, it all made sense—the look Alpha Nikolai was giving me, the reason Ophelia had woken me up suddenly and was watching me with desperation.
“You want to help me?”
The corners of his lips tilted into a smile, or what was its closest description.
“Do you want to be helped?”
“I…” The question took me off guard. How much could I do? I had no idea where Natalie was. I wasn’t much good at fighting. What were Silviu’s plans? How could I put a stop to it?
“Be careful, I do not give anything for free,” Nikolai warned, an indescribable glint in his eyes.
“What will you give in exchange for your army?”
If he was surprised, he didn't show it but his voice held wry humor when he spoke. “You want me to offer you some of my men?”
I stared back at him undeterred. “Yes.”
It was the only way I could help my father and the only chance I had at defeating Silviu. It occurred to me now that this might have been their plan all along. While Callan and his men were preparing for Silviu because Amelia had hinted at it, it served as a distraction, and he moved on to attack our pack instead.
“The warriors are ready when you are.” He made his way toward the door, throwing one last look at me to say “You owe me, Luna, and I never forget a debt.”
His last words chilled me, but at his disappearance, I tucked them into the corners of my thoughts that I couldn't reach. I had a war to face.
“We must leave at once, Sophia. I fear there is barely any more time to be wasted,” Ophelia said, urging me on.
I got up and even though my vision blurred and I swayed slightly, I knew I had to do this. I was ready to do this.
“Let’s go.”
****
Nikolai’s army was impressive, some on horseback and some in their wolf forms, his men on their horses armed to the teeth. We marched to the Mystic Hollow Pack. The journey took us half a day, and soon enough I was seeing the far expanse of my old pack stretched ahead.
Fear clutched my stomach as we made our way to the pack. The border warriors allow us to pass through when I confirmed my and Ophelia’s identities.
I still remembered, and it gladdened my heart how I still managed to remember the things I did. Memories led me forward, leading the army behind me and pretending I didn't notice how everyone stopped to watch us unabashedly as I continued until I came upon the large gate that enclosed my family’s home.
The gate was rickety and worn, evidence of how barely anyone cared for it. It was wide open and we headed inside, passing through wilted grass that I remembered from my childhood used to be a mass of lush greenery that stretched until it held our manor in between.
Our home looked old as though neglected, the staleness and sadness that engulfed it perforated the air; even though I knew it was not too late, evidence of how the pack remained quiet and undisturbed, I knew something was deadly wrong.
My suspicions were proven correct when I stepped inside the house and my first sight was my father seated on the high stool in the sitting room that had always been there. He was barely sitting; he leaned heavily on it, frail and old.
“Who are you?” A young woman stepped forward, stopping me. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she glanced behind me at Ophelia.
The army had been left behind outside the house.
My eyes moved from the woman standing in front of me to the younger girl seated quietly watching. Their blonde hair shone, falling down their shoulders. Both women had similarities to them, the same similarity they shared with Sephora and Natalie.
“Kate,” I said softly.
It was my mother that recognized me at first. I hadn't seen her but she rounded up the stairs, her brown hair pulled back from her face and when she smiled at me, her eyes crinkling, I could see how very much like her. At that moment, I mentally chided myself for never appreciating how much of her features I had taken and had been bothered so much about looking like everyone else.
“You are here,” she said quietly, coming to stand in front of me. I saw her lift her hands as though to come up and touch me before deciding against it and letting them fall limply by her side.
I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her, burying my face in her neck. I felt her still before, slowly, she reached out her hand and hugged me back. Her other hand touched my hair; it was so soft at first, almost like being caressed by the wind and I felt my heart break over and over for all of the times I had lain awake at night longing for her touch, pretending she was there with me.
“I missed you,” I cried, my words muffled by how tightly I had my face buried in her warmth but she understood me still. I'd always had that connection with my mother.
My mother—she was here, she was real.
“What happened to him?” I asked when I pulled away to look at my father who was still sprawled on his stool, a shadow of the man I once knew.
My mother wasn't looking at me, her eyes were staring over my shoulder at Ophelia who stood quietly.
“How can you be here?” Kate asked me. “Aren't you getting… Where is Natalie? Where is Sephora?“
Oh, no.
I stared at my sister, at all of the questions in her eyes, and then at my mother, the same reflection in hers. I was going to have to tell them. I was going to have to tell them that Sephora had died.
I opened my mouth to say something when I heard the heavy, distant sound of hooves contacting the ground in hurried movement outside.
I turned to Ophelia to see she was already looking at me, her eyes wide with terror.
“They are here,” she whispered.