Greykin Valley

| 28 | Useless, Dangerous Coward

⥐ ⋞ ☽ ⋟ ⥐

| Jackson |

Panic shot through Jackson's frozen body.

Everyone went still for a moment.

"Alastor!" Wesley shrieked, hurrying to his paws.

Jackson was stricken with so much fear and angst that all he could do was stand there and watch Wesley try to pull his friend away from the prowler, but Alastor yelped and convulsed, writhing around in the snow as the monster's venom enthralled him.

"Tokala!" came Damon's voice.

Taking his eyes off Alastor and Wesley, Jackson watched Damon grab the prowler's arms and hold them behind its back. Then, Tokala pounced and went for the creature's heart, but the prowler roared and kicked its right leg up, smashing its bony foot into Tokala's face. It then pulled free from Damon and swung around—

Jackson's fear was shattered by the desperate need to protect his mate. He didn't even think about it. He burst forward, and when the inimă's power surged through his veins, he felt his strength peak. He smashed into the prowler before it could clash with Damon, and when he pinned it to the ground, it stared at him in what looked like confusion for half a second. But then it started struggling, trying to break free.

However, Jackson was stronger. A crimson glow swiftly wrapped itself around his body, and when Jackson felt his jaw tremble with anticipation, he sunk his teeth into the prowler's throat. He bit so hard that he felt the monster's spine crack, and when the beast gurgled and lost control of its limbs, Jackson plunged his muzzle into its chest, gripped its rotting heart, and tore it out.

The taste of the cadejo's blood gave him no satisfaction, though. To Jackson's relief, however, the bloodlust which consumed him before didn't enthral him, and when he heard Wesley's mournful cries, the inimă's power faded, leaving Jackson with the heavy weight of fear, guilt, and dismay.

"Alastor," Wesley cried, shaking his head as he lay beside his panting, wheezing friend.

Everyone stood around them with their own looks of sorrow and grief. No one said a word, and when Jackson shifted his sights to Damon, he saw the same expression on his face that appeared whenever the Alpha was blaming himself.

But this wasn't Damon's fault. It was Jackson's. Once again, he froze up like a useless idiot, and Alastor got bit.

"It's okay, it's okay," Wesley insisted quietly, and then he started licking Alastor's wound.

Bly's despondent frown thickened. "W-Wesley, I...that's not—"

"He's gonna be fine!" Wesley snapped, lifting his head to glare at her. Then, when he saw the same worried, sullen expressions on everyone else's faces, he scowled. "Why are you all standing there?! G-go and fetch some herbs or help me get him somewhere safe!"

"Wesley," Damon said, stepping forward. "There's nothing we—"

"No!" he wailed, shaking his head. "Y-you said they could still be them for a while before turning, r-right?" he asked desperately, staring at Damon. "M-maybe...maybe that gives us time to save him! What about grim root?" he suggested, gawping at Bly. "I-it can extract the venom, right? Right?!" he cried, trembling.

Remus started crying and hid his face in Damon's fur.

Rachel wept, too, and turned his head away to try and mask her tears.

When Bly failed to continue trying to convince Wesley of the truth, Lance spoke up, "Wesley, there's nothing. I'm sorry." He was clearly trying his best to keep his composure, but the despair and tears were contagious. "The best thing we can do for him now is...free him before the virus takes him entirely."