Drew's fully outstretched claws dug into the rusted railing of the mill's roof, the metal groaning under his grip. The hunter—Elena—stood frozen a few feet away, her green eyes locked onto his, like if she was daring him to make a move. Below the mill roof top, Rhona's howl still echoed in his ears, a warning that hunters were closing in on their temporary hideout. His pack was slowly getting cornered, and this woman, this *intruder*, was either a threat or a lifeline. The curse in his blood didn't care which—she was just a prey to it and it wanted out.
"Talk fast," Drew growled, his voice rough with the beast clawing at his insides, barely holding it as he refused to change. The moonlight did not help as it bathed Ironhaven in silver, which only made the curse inside him burn hotter, like a fire under his skin. "You say you didn't lead them here. Prove it," he still said.
Elena lowered her hands which she had raised up slowly, her gaze never wavering. Any normal movement no matter how well intended could be misread most especially in front of these hothead. "I came alone," she said, her voice steady despite the chaos unfolding below. "My team doesn't know I tracked you. I wanted answers, not a bloodbath."
"Answers?" Drew dropped from his roof top and came closer, his amber eyes narrowing. Her scent—wildflowers and steel—hit him again, stirring something mysterious, something he couldn't name. "You of all people know that hunters don't ask questions. They shoot and ask later that's if they interested at all."
"I agree but on this occasion not me," she snapped, her defiance sparking a flicker of respect in him. "You spared me back at the warehouse. That wasn't just mercy, was it? You *felt* something. And I hate to say this too but I felt it and it made feel how you too were feeling it."
Drew's jaw clenched a little tight. She was too close to the truth, and he didn't like it. He didn't even know her before now and worse still was that she seemed unpredictable; something that he could not really trust. But before he could respond, a crash echoed from the mill behind him—Lena's panicked shout, followed by Rhona's sharp command. He was sure that she was directing Ezekiel and Ralph. It was now obvious, the hunters were here.
"Move!" Drew grabbed Elena's arm, dragging her toward the mill's doors. She didn't resist, but her muscles tensed, ready to bolt or fight which she had to pause since he was in control here. He didn't trust her, not yet, but leaving her here did not seem like a good option logically. The curse whispered to rip her apart, but he shoved it down, his control slowly fraying.
They ran into the mill's main floor, where the members of the Damned were scrambling and preparing. Rhona had barricaded the main entrance, her claws extended as she barked orders. Lena clutched a vial from the stolen crate, her eyes wide with fear. Matthias lounged against a pillar, his smirk infuriatingly calm. Ezekiel and Ralph were packing some of the vials into bags that they could carry on their shoulders and move out with.
"Nice of you to join us, alpha," Matthias drawled, his gaze shifting to Elena, who tried not to give him any attention. "Brought a guest, I see. Shall I prepare her for the cage?" he continued.
"Shut it, Matthias," Drew snapped. He released Elena, who stepped back but didn't run. "Rhona, how many do you think are out there?"
"At least a dozen," Rhona said, her voice tight. "I also think they are armed with silver, its shining in the moon light. And they seem to have gotten our scent." She glared at Elena. "Thanks to your new guest."
"I didn't—" Elena started to say something but a deafening bang cut her off. The mill's doors shuddered as something heavy slammed against them. Hunters weren't subtle when they had the upper hand. And in this case, they sorely believed that could take whatever creatures were behind the mills door.
Drew's vision blurred, the curse surging like a tidal wave. His hands trembled, claws lengthening, a little more hairs growing out and a low growl rumbled in his chest. *Not now.* He thought. He then focused on Lena's terrified face, grounding himself and thinking at least for her sake. "Lena, mask us. Now."
Lena nodded, her hands shaking as she crushed the vial which she had mixed with some ingredients of hers; as such releasing a faint shimmer into the air. Her omega ability—a rare gift to cloak the pack's scent—rippled outward, but it was weak, felt like if it was unpracticed. Drew cursed under his breath. She wasn't ready for this. It definitely was fear which he couldn't blame her for.
"Pathetic," Matthias muttered, stepping forward while slowly mutating into another form. "Let me handle the hunters. You're losing it, Drew."
Drew rounded on him, the curse roaring increasingly more to life than before. "Back off, or I'll handle you." His voice was barely human, almost godlike, not even close to the wolf kind he was. Matthias's smirk faltered, for more than a second. Him hoping he was not hearing another voice or something taking over his alpha?
Elena's hand grazed Drew's arm, a touch so light it shouldn't have registered. But it did, like a tether pulling him back from the edge. "They'll breach the door soon," she said quietly. "I know their tactics. Let me help. I can save us."
"Why should we trust you?" Rhona snarled, her claws twitching.
"You shouldn't," Elena shot back. "But you're out of options. Or do you think you can do something else?"
Another crash shook the mill, and a sliver of moonlight revealed silhouettes outside—hunters, armed and closing in. Drew's heart pounded, the curse whispering a dark promise: *Kill them all.* He shoved it down, but it was getting harder to fight. He wasn't in the mood to go berserk mode. Now wasn't the time.
"Rhona, watch Ezekiel and Ralph move out with the supplies and take Lena along too. Go to the cellars and carry the supplies to the tunnels," Drew ordered. "Matthias, cover the rear. Elena, you're with me."
"You're now trusting her?" Rhona's eyes blazed, but Drew held her gaze, to let her know this was a decision he was not backing down from.
"I'm trusting my instincts," he said, though he wasn't sure which instincts it was-his or the funny feeling which he now realized that he and Elena shared.
As the pack moved hurriedly, a faint hum filled the air, not from the hunters but from within Drew. A voice, ancient and cold, whispered in his mind: *The cursed alpha will rise.* His blood froze. The prophecy Rhona had mentioned days ago, half-forgotten in the chaos, was no myth. It was real, and it was now calling him. Talk about not knowing the right time to call out.
The mill's doors shattered and a silver-tipped arrow whizzed past Drew's head. Elena dove in front of him, deflecting another with her dagger. Her eyes met his, fierce and unyielding. As if asking if he was not ready to fight.
"Move, wolf," she said. "Or we're both dead."