Four allies; one mission.
Take down the tyrant.
This should be easy considering they're the Chosen Wolves. They're inherently powerful. United, they'd be a force of nature. Unfortunately for the werewolf community, they face two minor setbacks:
One...
"You promised." I whisper into the silence of the night. "You promised me my mate."
My knees weaken and I sink to the ground.
The sun has set. The first stars are beginning to appear in the night sky. High above, I hear the laughter of the moon.
"I promised to give you a mate. I never promised I wouldn't take her away." Selene says. "You're a murderer. Did you really think you deserved one?"
My hands ball into fists. With a roar, I slam them down hard. The marble cracks and the dust sticks to my skin. It glitters under the faint rays of the moonlight.
Moonstonedust. The realisation sends a flash of anger coursing through me. This wasn't ordinary sand. When the windows burst open and wind carried the sand into the castle, it was this sand.
Which means, they'd read the book. Stella's attempt to steal it had failed after all. It didn't matter that she got it back. They already knew from the ancient texts that moonstones would counteract the dark enchantments cloaking the castle. It would nullify the magic and make it susceptible to future invasions.
With the wind and the seasons against me, I wouldn't stand a chance.
They walked into my home.
Killed my mate.
Bastards. They think they're so clever, don't they?
I will walk into theirs, like they walked into mine.
Kill her, like he killed mine.
My warriors will slaughter all—man, woman and child. Their streets will run red with blood; the air will stink of putrid flesh.
My star have died, but she did leave something vital behind. Information. She told me the exact date the Initiation Ceremony would take place. On the night of the Wolf Moon—the first full moon night of the year. That would be the night the Alpha of the Blood Hounds would publicly accept his mate into his pack.
It would also be the last night he'd see her alive.
I gather the cursed moonstone dust in my fist and raise it high up before letting it slip through my fingers.
I look up at the moon again. I know she's watching; she always is.
Her light dims under my glare.
I smile through my tears. "You sent Death to warn me. He was right. There's no happy ending for the likes of me. When my thread of life is cut, I know I'm going to hell. What's the point in running when I've already got a suite reserved there in my name?"
If I'm to die, so be it.
But believe me when I say this: When I go down, I will take every single one of them down with me.
⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️
A/N
Thus concludes the POV of Greyhound. So glad it's over. Writing the mindset of a twisted psychopath has to be one of the hardest things I've ever done.
Next update: coming this Thursday. (As I mentioned in the last chapter, this one's really short, so think of the next as a compensation)
xoxo Christine
PS: Word count is 475.
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