Chapter 348

I moan in horror as the tent floods with people, as they stomp out the lingering flames and try to pull Tony’s body away from me. I scream against it, holding onto him, not wanting to let him out of my sight.

But Luca is there, crouching behind me, murmuring to me to let him go – to let the doctors help him – to unclench my hands that are clinging to Tony’s uniform. Luca’s words don’t register with me for a moment as the medics come flying in, as people begin to shout to notify the command about the dead Cadet on the floor, about what they assume was a fight that broke out –

But Luca’s hands are calm on mine, and he slips his fingers beneath mine and unfolds them –

And then they lift Tony, and they take him away.

And I completely lose my mind.

I scream out all of the horror and fear that’s racing through my body, through my blood.

How – how can the whole world have fallen apart in thirty seconds –

Gibson – Atalaxia – flashes of knives coming right for my face – the sting of the cuts across my palms -

Tony in front of me – Luca’s roar and his fangs – and then blood –

Blood, everywhere. Blood all over my friend, blood still all over me.

“I’ve got you, Ari,” Luca murmurs to me, pulling me up into his arms and then up off the floor, his whole body shaking as he does, as I cry and sob out what sounds like an endless wail.

“You need to stay right the fuck where you are,” a superior officer commands, putting a hand out to Luca. “This is not finished –“

I just sob, turning my face into Luca’s chest.

“I’m taking him to the king,” Luca snarls, pushing past, pushing through people –

“You’re taking him fucking nowhere –“ the officer shouts.

But suddenly the flaps fly open again and more people come flying in – tall men, their scents so familiar.

“Ari!” Jackson barks, sending people flying as he shoves them out of his way, crossing the tent to me with Rafe and Jesse and my father in his wake.

“She’s fine,” Luca says, his voice trembling as he steps towards our group. I moan, reaching for my father, wanting his steady presence, and Luca only hesitates for a second before passing me over into my father’s arms.

“What happened?” Rafe barks, glaring around at everyone, going still as he sees Gibson’s body on the ground and the blood –

A great deal of blood – far more than could be produced by one boy.

“I’m going,” dad growls to Rafe. “Handle this. Get answers. Report to me.” He turns, sharp, heading immediately for the entrance as I curl tight against his chest. I call to my mates as my father carries me out, begging them to come with me, feeling it when they both comply, silently following my father as he carries me down the path between the military tents. As we go, we leave a path of Tony’s blood in our wake as it slowly drips from my sodden clothes.

Hours later, I still can’t stop crying.

I sit on the little bed set up for my father in the command tent, my clothing changed, my hands freshly bandaged in white linen, Jackson by my side and Luca seated on the ground at my feet.

The entire tent is silent except for the soft sound of my sniffing as tears slip unendingly down my cheeks. Jackson keeps a hand steadily on my back, his wolf curled defensively around mine in my souls, snarling at every sound.

Otherwise, though, we sit in silence.

Luca and I already briefed everyone three times on what happened, or what we think happened.

Now the only thing to do is…wait.

Ridiculous. It all feels so ridiculous to just…sit here, while Tony is somewhere else, dying or dead because he saved me.

Ridiculous that someone came and softly cared for and bandaged my hands. That I took a fucking shower and washed all his blood away, that I’m clean and nice, my hair freshly braided with my mates warm at my side.

And Tony…Tony’s not.

I sniff harder, thinking that it’s not worth it. That it wasn’t worth it – not for me. Not if we lose him.

A horrible, terrified moan slips from my lips.

“Stop thinking like that,” Luca pleads, turning his sad brown eyes up to me. “Tony made his choice. He was –“

But Jackson just growls at him, low, and Luca sighs and turns his face down.

My heart reaches out to Luca, too, because I owe my life to him as well. He took a life for me – something that can’t not leave a stain on his soul.

Grief hits me again, because I owe so much to all of them. To everyone. Debts I’ll never be able to pay.

I hang my head, tears starting again, and Jackson tilts me towards him, letting me rest against his chest.

We all turn towards the entrance, though – me going stock straight with fear – when the flap lifts and a silhouette appears. I shy away from it, remembering again Gibson’s dark form against the door –

“It’s just me,” Jesse says, seeing my fear and reaching out a hand for me as he steps into the tent. “It’s all right, Ariel.”

Shaking a little, sniffing hard, I straighten up. “Is Tony okay?”

Jesse’s face falls a little as he steps into the tent and lets the flap fall, slipping his hands into his pockets. “It’s not good, cousin.”

I moan, my head falling. Jackson snarls again and I hear Jesse sigh at Jackson’s implicit command to stop saying things that upset me. But I shake my head, declining to be coddled, because I need to know.

“They don’t think he’s going to survive?” I ask.

Jesse sighs, deep. “They don’t know,” he murmurs.

“Is mom coming?” I raise my eyes to my cousin, desperate for him to say yes.

But Jesse just pauses and looks at me, I think deciding what to say.

I flash my teeth, a growl building in my chest alongside my demand.

He just sighs and shrugs. “I don’t know, Ari. They didn’t tell me.”

I clench my jaw, frustrated, and look away.

The flap opens again and two nearly identical dark heads appear. I sit up straighter, looking between my father and my brother. “Is he okay?”

Dad just sighs and snaps his fingers at Jackson and Luca, demanding a little space so he can sit and talk to me. Luca immediately gets to his feet but Jackson hesitates.

Dad huffs a laugh but then raises an eyebrow at Jackson, who swallows his growl and stands, taking two short steps to the side and leaving a space on the bed for my father to fill. Dad smiles just slightly, I think liking Jackson’s protective instinct, even if it is mildly inconvenient sometimes. Then dad sighs and sits on the bed with me, putting an arm around me and pulling it close.

“We don’t have any updates on Anton, my dear,” dad murmurs, pulling me close. “I’m sorry. The doctors say it’s very critical, but they’re doing their best to save him.”

I fight hard against the moan that tightens my throat and nod my head, knowing that my grief won’t help anything and that dad didn’t come here just to tell me that.

“I’m sorry, love,” dad murmurs, holding me close. “I never wanted this for you. I knew how deeply it would sink into your heart.”

I nod, unable to deny it. Because, I mean, everyone else has seemed to hold it together very well while I am going to pieces.

But then again, nobody sacrificed themselves to save them today. So perhaps I have more reason to go to pieces.

The flap raises again and Roger comes inside, looking around the tent with a stern expression, the cheerful and funny man from this morning completely wiped away. My eyes fall to the set of battle gear tucked under his arm.

“The question is,” Roger says with no preamble, “why that boy attacked now. If he’s been some kind of sleeper spy for Atalaxia from the beginning, why would he have waited until today? And why attempt to take out Ariel, when he’d have had the chance to take out Rafe and Jesse for months when they seemed like the more powerful of the Sinclair Cadets?”

“It’s true,” Jesse murmurs, crossing his arms and looking at his dad. “We’ve all been wary around Wright, but I never gave a thought to Gibson. He’s just been a little…toad. Hopping around, completely innocuous.”

“Which made him a great sleeper agent,” Rafe murmurs. “Absolutely below suspicion.”

I sniff hard, angry at myself for not asking these questions first. But my mind – it’s so soaked in grief, so bogged down that I don’t think I can think of…anything, let alone theories and motives.

Jackson’s wolf turns in a tight, protective circle around mine, growling at me, angry that I’d critique myself in a time like this. My wolf howls and stumbles into him, ducking her head beneath his, wanting to be close and still and warm. Jackson’s wolf complies with her demands, standing strong, dipping his head lower brush his muzzle warm against hers, letting her know that she’s safe.

Or, as safe as she can be.

“That boy must have known,” dad murmurs, looking around at the rest of our group. “Must have known, somehow, that Ariel is growing more powerful, becoming central to our attack plans. Which means either that we’ve got a spy in our midst or that…the boy was just good at his job and figured it out himself.” Dad shrugs. “Either way…” he sighs, shaking his head. “We have to assume that Atalaxia now knows the threat that Ariel poses to them. And that they’re trying to take her out.”