Chapter 32
I couldn't stop thinking about it—what happened in the pool. The way Jeremiah touched me, the heat of his body against mine, the primal need I felt... it was like nothing I’d ever experienced. My wolf had gone wild, begging for more of him, and even now, it was hard to think straight. Every time I closed my eyes, I could feel him, smell him, hear his growl in my ear. The bond between us was impossible to ignore, and my wolf… she craved him. She wanted her mate, and she didn’t care about the hatred in his eyes or the rage I felt pulsing through him.
It was driving me insane.
I tried to focus, tried to shake off the heat building in my body. My heart pounded in my chest, and I gritted my teeth, fighting against the overwhelming pull of the mate bond. But it was like fighting a losing battle. No matter what I did, the need was there, clawing at me, begging me to go to him.
'This isn’t real,' I told myself, running my fingers through my hair, pacing back and forth in my room. 'It’s just the bond. He doesn’t want me. He only wants to see me suffer.'
But my wolf didn’t care. She just wanted to be near him. To feel him.
Suddenly, a scream shattered the silence, piercing through the thick walls of the pack house. It was followed by more screams—loud, terrified, filled with agony.
I froze, my heart jumping into my throat. What was happening?
Before I could react, I heard the unmistakable sound of screeching. A high-pitched, inhuman wail that sent chills down my spine. It was unlike anything I’d ever heard before, like nails scraping on metal but ten times worse. My wolf snapped to attention, her instincts flaring.
And then I remembered my mother’s voice, soft but serious as she warned me about creatures like this when I was a child. “Bad banshees,” she had called them. Nightmarish monsters from an ancient tale that ripped apart the living with razor-sharp teeth and claws, their voices heralding death.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I rushed to the window. Outside, I could see the chaos unfolding. Wolves—packmates—were running, screaming. And there it was. The white monster, tall and grotesque, moving like a shadow across the ground, its skeletal frame hunched and its long, spindly arms reaching for its next victim. Its skin was sickly pale, almost translucent, stretched tight over sharp bones, and its face—if you could call it that—was twisted into a horrific, gaping maw filled with rows of needle-like teeth.
I watched in horror as it ripped open a young wolf, shredding him apart in a matter of seconds, blood spraying across the ground as its claws tore into flesh and fur. The creature’s screech filled the air, echoing around the pack grounds.
I had to do something.
Without thinking, I bolted for the door. The guards tried to stop me, stepping in my way, but I pushed past them. “I’m going to help the children!” I shouted over my shoulder, not caring if they followed or not.
The moment I stepped outside, the stench of death hit me like a wave. Blood, fear, and the sour scent of terror filled the air, and I could see the bodies of wolves—people I knew—littering the ground. My heart clenched, and my wolf growled inside me, furious and ready for a fight.
I spotted a group of pups huddled near the edge of the pack house, crying and trembling as they watched the carnage unfold. They were trapped, surrounded by the bodies of fallen wolves and the banshees stalking the night. One of the monsters, its long limbs dragging across the ground, turned its attention toward them.
No.
Before I could act, another wolf darted into the fray, his powerful form cutting through the chaos. It was Jeremiah. His eyes burned with fury as he ripped one of the creatures apart, claws slashing through its flesh, sending its blood spraying across the ground. He moved with deadly precision, his every motion a blur of violence and grace. He killed one of the banshees in seconds, saving the little boy it had been stalking.
But then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. Another one of the creatures, creeping up behind him, its claws gleaming in the moonlight, ready to strike.
“No!” I screamed, but he didn’t hear me. His focus was on the boy in front of him, and he didn’t see the danger behind him.
Something inside me snapped.
My wolf surged forward, taking control with a speed and ferocity that left me breathless. My body shifted before I could even register it, and suddenly I was on all fours, my vision sharp, my muscles coiled and ready for the hunt.
I launched myself at the monster, my teeth bared, and slammed into it with all my strength. It screeched, its claws swiping at me, but I dodged, tearing into its flesh with my teeth. I could feel the hot blood fill my mouth, but I didn’t stop. I ripped into its throat, feeling the crunch of bone beneath my jaws, and then—without thinking—I grabbed its head and yanked.
The banshee’s head came clean off, its lifeless body collapsing to the ground in a heap. But I wasn’t done. My wolf demanded more, her bloodlust driving me forward. I grabbed the creature’s spine and ripped it out in one smooth motion, the bones snapping under the force.
I stood there, panting, covered in blood, my vision hazy as the adrenaline surged through my veins. My eyes burned, and I could feel the power coursing through me, stronger than ever before.
The world began to spin, my vision fading to black as the energy drained from my body. The last thing I saw was Jeremiah’s face, his eyes wide with something I couldn’t quite place—fear, shock, maybe even admiration—as he caught me before I hit the ground.
I could barely hear his voice over the ringing in my ears, but I felt the vibrations of his growl. “Everyone inside!” he ordered, his voice sharp and commanding. “Get to the pack house and secure the perimeter. No one leaves until I say so.”
I tried to stay conscious, but it was like my body was shutting down. My limbs were heavy, my mind foggy. I felt Jeremiah’s arms wrap around me, lifting me off the ground as if I weighed nothing.
The last thing I heard before I blacked out completely was his heartbeat, strong and steady against my ear, and the low growl that escaped his lips as he whispered, “You’re mine, Astrid.”
And then, everything went dark.
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