Chapter 105: Her cry

MAXINE.

“No!” I manage to scream, but my body is still locked in its paralyzed state. “Theo….”

Draco just chuckles as though I just told him a mildly entertaining joke. “Well, that’s enough of that. It’s a shame he showed up. It really is.”

He kneels down and tries to look for the empty syringe, but it’s now powder hiding in the grass and the dried leaves. He curses under his breath, rifling through his pockets. When he finds that he no longer has anything other than the one tainted in poison, he starts to scream like a toddler being denied his toys.

Wordlessly, he straightens his jacket and looks at me. Then, he starts to march away from the scene as though nothing happened, as though he’s not sporting a broken nose and a busted lip and two swollen eyes.

Anger is flowing in me like a dam, on the verge of exploding and flooding everything. I move my hands and they start to twitch, breaking out from the grip of whatever it was he made me inhale. But despair is moving within that anger. Sadness. Fear. That strong visceral fear at the possibility of Theo being dead right now.

“Theo,” I whisper again, my voice cracking. “Theo….”

He doesn’t answer. He’s just lying down on the dead leaves, completely silent and still. The last of the effects of the paralytic in my body starts to ebb away, and the first thing I do is leap to my feet and rush towards him.

I hold his face, which is as cold as stone now. His eyes are still moving, following me around, but his lips are now turning a dangerous shade of purple. The black veins under his skin are spreading, growing like a network of roots. They’re now bulging too, as though fighting with his own blood, and the area where the needle went through is now oozing a liquid in the color of green.

Theo is dying.

“This can’t happen,” I whisper to him. “You need to hold on. You need to wait for me. I’m going to make this right.”

He reaches up when I try to stand, his hand pressing on my cheek. He keeps his gaze on me, and I can feel his trust. I can feel his faith. He believes that I can make this right. He believes that he has time, that I do too.

And that’s all I need.

I get up, lifting his body a little and resting him against a tree. Perhaps this position would slow down the movement of the poison. Perhaps it won’t do anything.

And it doesn’t.

Theo’s body soon goes slack. His eyes glassy, the last memories of my face the only things burned in them. How long I stayed there and held him, I don’t know. But by the time I let him go, his body is cold and hard.

Lifeless.

Tears flow down my cheeks as I hug him. I take off my pocket watch and put it around his neck like some sort of protection. I don’t pray and I never have, but this time, I take my time and whisper my hopes to some kind of force or deity out there. For him to be untouched until I come back. For him to be somehow brought back to life. For my forgiveness.

Because there would be no going back from what I’m about to do.

* * *

I stare at the high walls of the Unclaimed Camp, towering over me like a hand reaching to the sky. There are guards all around the entrance, and Jonathan is nowhere to be found.

Usually, I would take my time and figure out a way to get in. But not this time. Not when my heart is almost dead with all the suffering that is being fed to me. Not when my mate is gone. Not when the person who did it is in those very walls.

I emerge from the rock I was hiding in. My hand is already shifted, sharpened into a bright white paw tipped with what looks like silver blades. The guards scramble to fight me, to tackle me, but I swish my hand through their group, slicing at whatever the nails touch. Blood spatters everywhere, including my face. I spit it out of my mouth, going through their ranks easily.

I don’t care anymore. I don’t care who gets hurt. I don’t care who dies. I don’t have anything else to live for.

They all fall like heaps of fish on my feet, and I walk over them to the gates. I pry them open with my bare hands, throwing the piece of useless metal to the side. More guards come at me, and I punish them all the same. There are ones who are smart enough to hide and to run in the opposite direction when they see me coming. There are those that remain in their stances hoping to stop me and win some points.

Those men stop moving after I’m done with them.

Cold rage is in my heart, turning it into a block of ice. I cut and slice. I swerve and kill. No care, no remorse.

At last, I reach the inside of the camp. All the Unclaimed are gathered in long lines at the circle, and I see that all of them are in black overalls now, training like soldiers. They stop when they see me, freezing into place as though time turned itself off.

I can see awe. I can see happiness. I can see hope. And I can see fear.

But most importantly, I can see Draco standing in front of them, commanding them, his face covered up in bandages.

He grins at me as though I’m an old friend. “And look who comes back to join us. Come here, Maxine. I still need something for you.”

Seeing him ignites something in me. Or kills the only living thing inside of me.

All I know is that suddenly, I see white. Strength surges all over my body. I feel like I’m suddenly towering over all of them. But no. White light is emanating off of me. Blue light is also reflecting on his face.

Suddenly, Draco backs away. The Unclaimed start to scream and scramble away from me. More and more energy gathers around me until my skin is electrified. My face is hot. My eyes are bright with tears and blue light. Frost starts to build on the fresh grass, penetrating deep into the soil until cracks appear.

And with that, a huge cloud of mist and snow explodes around me, stretching as far as it can go as the earth shakes and a cry escapes my lips.

The cry of the last White Wolf.