Chapter 85 The Price of a Sister

Chapter 85 The Price of a Sister
AVRIELLE’S POV

“ELENA!!”

The scream tore through my throat, raw and jagged, burning my vocal cords like liquid fire.

The loud, deafening crack of Malphas’s gun was still echoing off the weeping moon cliffs when I saw her move.

Elena hadn’t hesitated the moment she saw the black barrel pointing straight toward my heart from the dirt below the altar, she had thrown her body directly in front of mine.

The bullet punched straight into her chest, the force of the impact snapping her small frame backward. A sudden, terrifying spray of crimson splattered across the dark silk train of my cloth discarded on the altar steps.

Beside us, Xavier didn’t waste a split second.

Driven by a surge of pure, animalistic rage, he lunged across the platform, diving off the edge and tackling the gun straight out of Malphas’s hand before the monster could rack another round.

Their bodies slammed into the gravel below with a sickening thud, but I couldn’t look at them.

I couldn’t focus on Xavier, on Malphas, or on the war roaring around us.

My knees hit the freezing stone so hard I felt the bone crack against the marble, but the physical pain didn’t even register.

“Elena!” I gasped, my hands trembling violently as I slid them beneath her head, pulling her upper body into my lap.

Blood—so much hot, thick, dark blood—was already soaking through the front of her simple maid’s tunic, spreading across her chest like a blooming, lethal flower.

Her breath came in short, wet, shallow hitches, a faint red bubble forming at the corner of her lips every time her small chest struggled to rise.

Yet, as she looked up into my face, her wide brown eyes weren’t filled with terror.

There was no panic in her gaze.

Instead, a soft, unbelievably gentle smile touched her pale, blood-stained lips.

“I’m… I’m glad you’re okay… mistress,” Elena whispered, her voice barely louder than the rustle of the autumn wind through the pine trees.

Tears burst from my eyes, hot and blinding, cutting clean tracks through the dirt and silver dust covering my cheeks.

“Why?!” I yelled, my voice cracking into a desperate, sobbing screech. “Why did you step in and take the bullet for me?! Are you a fool?! You absolute idiot, why would you do that?!”

Elena let out a tiny, breathless sound that was almost a chuckle, though it ended in a painful, choked cough that forced more blood past her lips.

“It’s… it’s the right thing to do,” she murmured, her eyelids fluttering as if an unbearable weight were pulling them closed.

She reached up with a slow, agonizing effort, her small, cold hand trembling in the air until her bloodied fingers lightly touched the side of my cheek.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry I cannot be there when we win… or for your real mating ceremony… but thank you… thank you for making me your sister…”

“Stop talking!” I sobbed, placing my hand over hers, pressing her freezing fingers tightly against my face.

“Stop talking right now or your wound will worsen! Just save your strength, Elena, please! Please, I’m ordering you, shut up!”

Elena’s smile didn’t fade.

Her pale face looked so small, so young, so painfully fragile against the backdrop of dark stone and blood.

“I’m already content… that you’re here…” she breathed out, her dark eyes locking onto mine with an absolute, unwavering warmth.

“And thank you… Avrielle.” Her hand went completely limp.

It slipped from my cheek, dropping heavily to the cold stone altar floor with a dull, hollow thud.

Her dark eyes closed slowly, her long lashes settling against her pale cheeks, and the shallow, agonizing hitch in her chest stopped altogether.

The air in my lungs froze solid.

“Elena?” I whispered, my voice trembling so violently I could barely form the syllables.

I leaned over her, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her forehead.

“Elena… no. No, no, no… open your eyes. Elena, look at me! Stop playing around!”

She didn’t move.

She didn’t breathe.

“Elena!” I gasped, pulling her limp body tightly against my chest, burying my face into her neck, rocking her back and forth on the bloody altar steps.

“Please! Open your eyes! You promised we’d sit in the kitchen again! You promised you’d be my head maid! Elena, please!”

A wave of memories flooded my mind, shattering my heart into a thousand jagged pieces.

I saw her running down the wide stone corridors of the estate, her arms full of fresh linens, squealing with mischievous delight whenever she caught me stealing glances at Xavier.

I saw her sitting at the table just an hour ago, her dark eyes sparkling with tears of pure joy as she giggled and called me Luna Avy.

I saw her standing by my side through dungeons, through fear, through rogue attacks, never once wavering, never once leaving my side.

She wasn’t just a maid.

She wasn’t just a servant in this cold, terrifying northern keep.

She was the first person who had made this place feel like a home.

She was my friend.

She was my sister.

And now she lay cold in my arms, killed by a war she had never asked to be a part of.

A dark, suffocating tide of agony rose from the absolute depths of my soul.

Elle, my wolf, didn’t just howl in my mind—she threw her head back and shrieked with a terrifying, apocalyptic fury that rattled my bones.

I clutched Elena’s lifeless body to my chest, threw my head back toward the pale grey sky, and let out a raw, guttural, demonic growl that vibrated through the entire clearing.

“ELENA!!”

The sound didn’t sound human.

It carried a heavy, crushing wave of Luna dominance that swept across the field like a physical shockwave, making the air crackle with static electricity.

Slowly, carefully, I lowered Elena down onto the stone altar.

I smoothed her dark hair back one last time, closed her eyes gently with my fingers, and pulled the edge of her silk dress over her small shoulders to cover her wound.

I stood up.

The tears on my face dried into cold, salty crusts against my skin. The grief in my chest vanished, consumed by a blinding, toxic, murderous rage that turned my blood to ice.

My gaze swept down from the raised altar toward the war raging across the ceremonial clearing. It was a bloodbath.

Over by the western tree line, Beta Kaiden was fighting for his life. He was surrounded by nearly a dozen Ironclaw mercenaries, his broadsword covered in black blood, but his movements were growing sluggish.

A tall, heavily armored warlord—probably Malphas’s Beta—was pressing him hard, landing heavy, brutal blows against Kaiden’s cracked chest plate.

Kaiden was bleeding from a deep gash on his thigh, barely holding his ground under the relentless assault.

Near the eastern archway, Ryan was trying desperately to clear a path back to the altar to reach Xavier, but a wall of rogue shield-bearers was locking him down, pinning him behind the pillars as automatic rifle fire tore through the air.

Then, my eyes shifted to the center of the lower clearing.

Xavier and Malphas were locked in a brutal, hand-to-hand struggle. Xavier was fighting like a man possessed, his golden eyes blazing, but he was exhausted.

Malphas, despite the silver poisoning his wolf, was still powered by the unnatural chemical cocktail in his veins. He was trading blow for blow with Xavier, his fists cracking against Xavier’s ribs, forcing the Alpha onto the defensive.

I didn’t utter a single sound.

I reached up, unzipped the grey hoodie I was wearing, and let it slip off my shoulders, tossing it carelessly onto the stone floor.

I stood clad in my dark jeans and tight black tank top, my skin flushed pink, my dark hair falling around my shoulders in wild waves.

I reached down to my thigh, checking the sleek black semi-automatic handgun strapped securely to my leg.

Then, my hand reached out, grabbing the long, heavy steel broadsword resting beside the fallen priest’s feet.

I picked it up.

The weapon was heavy, forged from pure northern iron, but in my hands, it felt as light as a feather.

I turned, stepping off the altar, dragging the tip of the heavy broadsword along the stone steps.

SCREECH… SCREECH… SCREECH…

The sound of iron scraping against marble was sharp, lethal, and loud enough to cut through the din of battle.

I walked down the steps with slow, deliberate, predator-like grace.

My eyes were locked entirely on the back of Malphas’s neck.

As I reached the base of the altar, Malphas raised his arm to drive a lethal elbow into Xavier’s jaw.

Without breaking my stride, I brought the heavy broadsword up and swung it in a lethal, horizontal arc straight toward Malphas’s throat.

Malphas’s instincts flared just in time. He sensed the displacement of air, ducked his head violently, and rolled to the side.

The steel blade whistled inches above his head, biting deep into the wooden post behind him instead.

I pulled the blade free in one fluid motion, stepping back, and slammed my bare back straight against Xavier’s broad, bloodied chest.

Xavier flinched at the contact, his chest heaving with ragged, heavy breaths.

He turned his head slightly, his golden eyes wide with shock as he stared down at me—at my tight black top, the blood on my hands, the lethal gun on my thigh, and the iron sword in my grip.

I braced myself for him to yell at me.

I waited for him to demand that I run back to the panic room, to tell me it wasn’t safe, to act like the overprotective Alpha he always was.

Instead, Xavier took a slow, deep breath.

His broad hand reached out, resting against the small of my back for a second, his gravelly voice dropping into a rough, exhausted, yet utterly trusting rumble.

“Don’t overwork yourself,” Xavier whispered into my ear, his breath hot against my cheek. “Stay by my side.”

A faint, fierce smile touched my lips.

I didn’t look back at him, but I reached out my left hand, intertwining my fingers tightly with his bloodied, clawed hand, giving it a firm, unbreakable squeeze.

“Always,” I murmured.

Opposite us, Malphas pushed himself up from the dirt, wiping the black blood from his nose with the back of his sleeve.

He looked at the two of us standing back-to-back, our hands intertwined, our weapons raised in unison.

A dark, manic laugh burst from Malphas’s throat.

He shook his head, his dark eyes wide with an unhinged, mocking hilarity.

“You’re going down, and you’re acting lovey-dovey, huh?!” Malphas sneered, gesturing wildly around the chaotic clearing with his blood-stained hands.

“Look at your precious pack, Xavier! Look at them! Your warriors are almost cleared out! Your Beta is clearly not holding up against my Beta, and your Gamma can’t even stand up to my soldiers!

“You are a pathetic pack with poor war power, and you two dare to act lovey-dovey in front of me?!”

I let go of Xavier’s hand, stepping half a pace forward, raising my chin high as my dark eyes locked onto Malphas with a cold, absolute promise of death.

“Yes, we dare,” I said, my voice ringing out across the clearing like a silver bell, clear, loud, and carrying a terrifying edge of pure authority.

“And we dare do a lot more. And now… let me show you what this pack is really made of.”

Before Malphas could process my words, I reached down to my thigh with lightning speed, drew the sleek black semi-automatic handgun from its holster, and racked the slide with a sharp CLACK.

I turned my head toward the western tree line, my voice booming across the field.

“KAIDEN!”

Beta Kaiden heard my call.

He ducked under a heavy swing from Malphas’s Beta, looking toward the altar.

I whipped my arm across my body and tossed the heavy semi-automatic handgun through the air.

The gun spun across the clearing, landing firmly in Kaiden’s outstretched, clawed hand.

Kaiden caught it, a dark, dangerous grin breaking across his bloody face.

He racked the slide and immediately began firing point-blank into the chest of Malphas’s Beta, blowing the armored warlord backward into the brush.

I reached beneath my waist, pulling the second handgun from my back belt loop.

“RYAN!” I screamed, turning toward the eastern archway.

I hurled the second weapon high over the heads of the rogue shield-bearers.

Ryan leaped into the air, caught the gun mid-flight, rolled behind a stone pillar, and immediately began picking off the rogue shooters pinned behind the barricades with lethal, military precision.

The tide of the battlefield shifted in three seconds flat.

I turned back to face Malphas.

I grabbed the heavy iron broadsword with both hands, lifting the tip until it was pointed straight between the monster’s glowing, psychotic eyes.

My voice dropped into a dark, razor-sharp whisper that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“Now…” I growled, my wolf roaring in unison with my voice.

“Where were we?!”