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Rebecca

. . .

As we enter a clearing, so painstakingly beautiful that I'm saddened by what's about to take place here, I find myself wondering how would this have gone had Leo prepared me for this, like Thia had said.

Would I have rejected Kai, on the spot, or would we have ended up back here?

I don't let myself dwell on it for long, particularly because I'm being hauled out of the car.

There's a river that flows through the center of the large valley, small mountains on either side, and dozens of trees cover the large expanse of grass.

Oh no.

My father is about to ruin this place. Force me to turn these harmless life forms into monsters.

Slate drags me by my shoulders, struggling a bit to keep a firm grip on me as I'm still duct taped. But nonetheless he pulls me, and places me onto a large slab of smooth rock.

My father stands, arms wide in a 'king-of-the-world' gesture as he inhales a deep breath. "He's close," he smirks.

Taking this as a signal of some sort, Slate takes out a large can of rock salt and begins pouring it on my wings.

I cry out, squirming as I fight the urge to wretch from the pain. I try to will my wings to tuck themselves away but the salt must affect them too greatly as they only flutter wildly in protest of the attack on them.

I'm sure Leo was talking about another one of his cronies when a car appears. It's not Mace's, so initially I'm sure it must be another bad guy, when all of a sudden, Kai bounds out.

My eyes widen, and I want to tell him to go away, when Slate points at a few trees.

"Do it, or I shoot him."

Tears spring to my eyes as I follow his instructions. I don't even try, it just happens on instinct as though I've done it a million times.

A single look and the trees become my minions, though forged out of care instead of pain and hate, I force them to hold Kai back instead of hurting them.

Slate smiles and pulls out a necklack, his skin turns red where it touches him, so I know it must be silver.

He kneels closer and though I do my best to wiggle away, I can't. He presses it to my wing, and I flinch. Why the hell is this worse than the salt?

Smirking he mutters quietly, "Good thing the old bat told us the spell first."

I'm not sure what he means but as he begins chanting, Kai drops to his knees and I yelp through the tape, worried for him.

"Attack."

The attack comes from Leo, and if I could describe how I imagine it felt when Kai's eyes changed colors, this would be it.

My eyes sting, feeling weird, and I close them involuntarily.

When they open, I realize the extent of whatever Leo and late have just done.

Multiple tree beasts have sprung to life and are being fought off by werewolves

"Shit," I shout, the sound still muffled by this fucking tape.

Heaven hops out of the car that Kai was in, and shifts, fur and muscle causing her clothes to rip. Her werewolf form just as big as Kai's, but blonde in color, and instantly I panic. It's one thing to watch nameless wolves fight my unwanted creations, it's another to watch a close friend do it. "Nonono."

Forcing my tongue passed my lips, I lick at the tape, making it just soggy enough to slide off my mouth.

I'm about to shout when I realize that the trees aren't even hurting the wolves.

The trees are so strong that the wolves do little damage to them anyways, but they aren't even trying. They aren't defending.

They're deflecting.

"Gah!" A shout comes from my side, and the pain in my wing eases. Mason has begun wailing on Slate—thankfully having tossed his crossbow out of reach.

As far as I can tell, it was the only thing that made him lethal.

Further back, Kai approaches my father with some difficulty. I realize now that the amount of werewolves in the clearing aren't nearly as effected by my tree creatures as Kai is.

At least twenty surround him, dragging him away from my dad and I can see he's having some difficulty.

One of them deviates from the rest and smacks him, sending him hurdling into another tree, and effectively knocking the wind out of both of us.

"Dad!" Slate cries out, reaching for Leo who looks positively horrified as Mason lands a finishing blow to his cranium.

Upon hearing this, I feel my blood rushing through my ears, freed from whatever forceful trance I was in. My eyes widen at the realization and I cough, trying to get my voice—hoarse from all of my screaming—to work. "No, no, no, nono, nononononono! Stop it! Now!"

Everything ceases. The trees fall to the ground, and I watch with tears forming as I notice a few of them have accidentally injured some of the werewolves. A brown wolf is surrounded by most of the others with a tree limb, sticking awkwardly from its belly, and another one, this one more copper colored seems near dead, its fur matting with the slickness of its own blood.

Seeing the carnage, albeit minimal to what I had expected, I find my eyes flying to Kai, ensuring his safety.

My father is now in Kai's grasp, held in a firm chokehold.

He can breathe, but just barely, and one move would surely end his life.

"I just wanted to continue protecting my people," he croaks, defeat in his eyes.

"You wanted to be in control," a familiar voice chimes. "And you weren't even man enough to ask for it." I sense the person's movement in my peripheral vision and I gape as Max's mate appears, frowning at the scene before her.

She must be letting the others see her too, because Kai lets out a gasp, gaze trained in her direction, and a wolf, with Max's white blonde hair pads up to us.

The girl walks over to Kai, in white linen haram pants and a camisole, much like the clothes the spa gives out—the ones protecting the majority of my skin from the tape—and grabs something from his pocket.

She stalks closer to Max who cocks her head at her, to which she does the same.

Max shifts, not even blushing at her nudity as she looks at her mate. "Who?"

"I don't know."

"What?"

"All it says is two lives. I assume the boy's and his," she whispers, holding up an old timey scroll.

I frown in her direction, suddenly all too hindered by this goddamned tape, but before I can ask for help being released, the last word escapes her lips and a gun cocks, causing everyone to whip toward the sound.

. . .

Does this feel anticlimactic to you guys? Or is it just me because I rewrote it like 4 times?

Dedicated to the reader who can relate to the fact that I haven't slep in 5 ever.

Next update on Friday, remember to stay safe and wash dem hands.♥

😊✌🏽

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