Dark Moon | Klaus Mikaelson

Chapter 37

Jackson watched the Bayou be wrecked.

Esmeray and Anya had intrigued him. They spoke to each other and to him as if they were a three person friend group. He knew their names and why they were there, and he actually liked them— they were sweet and they goofed around quite a bit.

The day they'd been in heat, he'd tried his hardest to resist, but he just couldn't. They smelled so good. The female wolves in their Pack were either all taken or not old enough to have children anymore. Besides, those were smells they were used to. This was as if someone had suddenly introduced a Victoria's Secret or other equivalent top-notch and heavenly-smelling perfume to a small town who didn't know what perfume was.

On the day of the ritual, he'd tried to give them space to be respectful. As the Alpha, he knew it was his instinct to be pursuing a life partner, and he couldn't really blame himself for being unable to resist. But Jackson held himself to a higher standard than that, and he was embarrassed he'd let his wolf instincts get in the way of his desire to protect the new two inhabitants of the Bayou. By now, he understood that they were doing something important, and had instructed the Crescent wolves to move deeper into the forest to let them be and give them their time to perform their spell without disturbances.

Why did that have to be the day the vampires decided to attack?

If the Crescents had been nearer to them, they could have saved them. The vampires wouldn't have stood a chance against a Pack of wolves, small as their numbers were. They had fierce fighters. Jackson alone could have taken on all ten vampires who ambushed Anya and Esmeray.

He'd come running the instant he heard the struggle. Only Oliver had followed him, while Aiden remained behind to keep the Pack calm. They'd all heard what was happening, and they were restless. No one would admit it, because they didn't want to show that they'd softened at the thought of two new wolves in the vicinity, but they'd all started to grow fond of Anya and Esmeray.

But they were too late. Jackson cursed internally, knowing he and Oliver could have done something if they'd arrived faster, or been there in the first place.

They watched as Esmeray stared, horror-struck, at Anya's dead body. She was struggling to breathe, to form words, to move, and to even register what had happened. Jackson could see her pupils darting all over, trying to determine if Anya was actually dead, or just injured. She hadn't processed the fact that no wolf could come back from an injury like this. There was a moment when Jackson thought she might laugh from how shocked she was, but this did not turn out to be the case.

He and Oliver were far enough away that they weren't hurt when she screamed.

It was as though the air exploded around them. Jackson and Oliver dropped to the ground as branches, dirt, rocks, and the unlit torches flew all over the place, the wind howling violently and creating a tornado around Esmeray, who was holding her head and screaming between sobs, incoherent speech spilling from between her lips. The Bayou water churned as if this tornado was about to turn into a hurricane. The trees swayed dangerously, cracking sounds echoing around. Jackson knew that if he didn't stop her, they'd either crash down, or she'd light them on fire.

Oliver had remained behind as the Alpha ran forward, dodging debris and trying to get to where Esmeray had dropped to her knees, shaking her head vehemently and covering her eyes as if she was trying to get out of a particularly vicious nightmare.

The only problem was that this was her brutal reality.

Jackson came to a halt in front of her, his paw coming to rest on her lap. Esmeray couldn't feel it at first, her entire body seeming distant from her soul as a tremendous amount of magic burst out, damaging everything in its path. Jackson had to squint to see her amidst all the dirt. He tapped her again, though he yelped this time and jumped back, his paw stinging as if she'd unintentionally burned him.