Chapter 38

Mila looked imploringly toward Kody. Surely, he’d noticed what was happening. Surely, he could stop this.

Then his eyes were back on Mila and she felt the hope drain. He bore a confused and somewhat helpless expression. He didn’t know what to do.

Mila shifted her weight, feeling the way Rori clung to her. If it was just her, she could get them out. Just her, she could get herself and Rori away from this.

She looked toward the witches. They were standing in their ragged line, heads bowed. Kimber looked toward Mila, her face blotchy and burned. Her eyes were sunken and bloodshot. How could Mila leave them?

If only Rori could fight. But the way he continued to grip her; he was like a baby opossum clinging to its mother. The youngest wolves were the farthest out from the crowd, parents pushing them to not see what was about to happen. When Mila and Rori made their escape, they would have to plow through the parents of the wolves he had played with and possibly knock them aside as well.

She couldn’t force Rori to do that. He wasn’t battle-hardened as she. No, here, she was the warrior.

Her jaw set as she made up her mind. She knew that she would have to abandon the witches in order to save Rori.

Mila had always been a caretaker in a way. Her entire existence had been built around caring for the needs of her creator. Whatever Ae had required, Mila and her kin had been obligated to fulfill the request.

Rori wasn’t Ae, though. He didn’t yet know what it was he needed at all times and she wasn’t obligated to give him what he wanted. He was a child, entirely dependent on her. Something she’d never considered having.

Part of her tactical mind reminded her that it was more sensible to prioritize the many over the few. She knew that it would make more sense to either choose the witches or accept the losses. In place of caring for her creator, the next most logical choice was self-preservation.

If the wolves were to execute all outsiders, Mila would eventually find herself next even if she didn’t struggle now. Even if she gave up Rori as a bad job and allowed his destruction. Eventually, she would be eliminated as well.

Rori was in no way capable of helping her in this state so it made more sense to help the witches. Even if it was only one, the chances of getting out alive and evading the wolves in the future were increased exponentially. But self-preservation didn’t even make sense anymore to her if it meant that Rori would die here.

She could almost curse her own kin for not being here. She could almost curse Jed for not being here. The numbers were really not on her side.

As she was, it was her only hope to keep Rori pressed to her and run. They would be on their own. She wasn’t even sure she could find the unicorn again. The poor creature was nowhere to be seen, it having been buffeted aside like the children. If it left her entirely, she couldn’t blame it.

Had she had the time, she’d have cursed herself for allowing this to happen. How had she thought that this new society would somehow be better than the old? It was pointless to rebuild when the foundation was still rotten.

Mila looked into the pained eyes of Kimber. Kimber gave the smallest of nods, bowing her head and shuffling closer to her sisters.

Mila would not be able to help her. The crowd was ready to engulf the witches and Mila could only save Rori.

She held the child tighter. Would that she could engulf him, protecting him entirely within herself.

Her posture shifted, knees bending, ready to take flight.

She looked to Kody again, this time resolved. She would abandon everything she’d been building with him. Whether the wolves continued their plans of reshaping the world, she didn’t know. She had no way of being certain if they would succeed.

Would their organization fall apart soon without Mila’s guidance and their inability to accept outside assistance? If this was the way they treated all others going forward, Mila doubted that what proceeded would be smooth.

Once word got out that they had decimated a kindly coven, the witches would be after them. Witches weren’t nearly as protective of their own as wolves, but this was an act of aggression against all other species.

If it would be the witches who would surely create more wendigos. Unlike Rori, these new ones wouldn’t have the capacity to for kindness. They would be built as killing machines, the insatiable hunger leading them to gorge on the wolves.

Every other fae in the world would be at the mercy of the warring factions. Mila could picture it all too easily. Just the way the humans had taken ownership of lands and waged their wars, so would these creatures. History, forever doomed to repeat itself until the continents fell again.

There was a lump in Mila’s throat. Her efforts would mean nothing and she couldn’t even afford to mourn it now. She couldn’t afford to be caught up in her emotions.

Mila had been created to be a protector of a singular being. Now, the being she protected was Rori. Rori was her priority.

She turned away from Kody’s ashen, defeated face, entirely prepared to bolt.

“Wait,” Kody said so soft and weak, she wasn’t entirely sure she’d really heard it or if it was just in her mind.

Then, she heard a much stronger, definitely real voice. “Why are you doing this?”

There was a strange shuffle behind Mila. It would’ve been the perfect distraction to allow for Mila and Rori’s escape had she not been so surprised. Or had Rori not loosened his grip slightly.

Mila half-turned toward the sound. Three people would pushing through the angry mob of wolves and it made Mila’s heart stutter. Her eyes welled with tears, unsure if she was happy or heartbroken.

They were not the three fighters to aid in her escape as she’d so desperately wanted. They were two adults who looked like they’d been drug through hell and back, their expressions painted with exhaustion and confusion and the voice hadn’t come from either.

The voice had come from the third person. A child, hardly any larger than Rori and not one that Mila immediately recognized. Rori was shifting from Mila’s grasp though, his head turned toward the child in obvious recognition.