Chapter 269 269
I herd them behind me, my body a shield, angling myself so no stray bullet can reach them from the side. My arms ache from holding them back, but I don’t loosen my grip.
Stéphane hasn’t looked away from me once. His gun remains trained on my chest, unwavering.
“Stay back,” he mutters, his voice tight, “and they won’t get hurt.”
He begins to lower the gun, and for a heartbeat, relief flickers then dies just as quickly. We’re backed against the wall now, the one blazing with heat, flames roaring just beyond it. The surface burns to the touch. Smoke coils thick in the air, and I know—I know the children won’t last minutes breathing this in.
I have to act. Now.
Stéphane’s attention snaps away from me.
In that instant, Geneviève loses her advantage.
I see it unfold in a blur Aurélie surges forward, slamming Geneviève to the ground. She straddles her chest, fingers locked around her throat, cutting off her air completely.
“Stéphane” Geneviève’s scream is hoarse, barely audible, the sound of someone already losing the fight for breath.
Panic overtakes him. In his rush, he shoves the gun into the waistband of his jeans and lunges forward, ripping Aurélie off Geneviève by the back of her hair.
Geneviève drags in a desperate breath, then springs up, feral and furious. As Stéphane restrains Aurélie, Geneviève slashes across her chest, claws raking skin.
This is it.
They’re going to kill her.
Right in front of my children.
The weight of it crashes into me this is my fault. I let him go. No matter what happens to me, I can’t let my children witness this. This grotesque betrayal of everything we are. Werewolves killing their own why? Because of envy. Because of greed. Because they want what they don’t have.
If this is the world God intends for me, I don’t want it.
I stop fighting fate.
I’m not afraid anymore.
This is my choice. No one decides it for me not Father. Not Geneviève. Not Stéphane. Not Damien. Not even Maurice.
I push off the burning wall, ignoring the searing pain, denying Stéphane the moment he needs to react.
My hand finds the gun in the back of his jeans.
I yank it free and swing, striking him hard across the head.
It works.
He releases Aurélie and stumbles, spinning toward me. His eyes lock onto mine no confusion now. Only murder.
He charges.
The gun is suddenly the only thing standing between us and death.
I pull the trigger.
The first shot hits his chest, the impact forcing him back but he doesn’t fall. He looks down, touches the wound, then lifts his gaze to me with a low, menacing growl.
Kill him, my mind screams.
Something inside me snaps. Control dissolves. I don’t think I act. I fire again. And again. And again. I need him gone. I need the threat ended. For Aurélie. For my children.
The bullets tear into him relentlessly, even his head, until the gun clicks empty.
Only then do I stop.
My hand trembles as I lower the weapon. Stéphane lies motionless on the decking, eyes wide open, frozen in shock surprised by his own death.
By my hands.
The gun slips from my fingers, the barrel still faintly smoking as it hits the ground with a heavy, final thud. A killing machine cold, weighty mirroring the leaden ache crushing my chest.
I’ve killed someone.
I stare at my hands. They aren’t bloody but they may as well be.
“Mum!”
Dominique’s voice cuts through the haze. He steps away from the wall, panic etched across his face. Instinct takes over. I yank him back, pulling him tight against his sister. I don’t know if the danger is truly over.
I won’t risk them.
I turn just in time to see Geneviève dragging Aurélie across the decking, toward the lake.
Aurélie fights her kicks, punches, claws but she’s slowing. The constant battle must have drained her wolf. Otherwise, she’d have shifted by now.
Geneviève is barely holding on herself exhausted, broken, fueled only by hatred so deep she’d drown herself just to see Aurélie die.
She succeeds.
Geneviève hauls Aurélie into the lake, despite the blows raining down on her head and chest.
They vanish beneath the surface.
I freeze.
I can’t leave the children. I don’t know who else might still be out here.
Then a violent splash.
A sharp gasp of air.
One of them is forced under the water.
And I don’t know which.