Selara's POV
The crack of a gunshot shattered the quiet night—barely a minute after dinner.
It left an ear-piercing echo that stung the air at its wake, just before another gunshot stole its place.
The plates on the large dining table rattled, the table shaking against the rush that brought Sylas and me to our feet.
He peered beyond me, head angled towards the window, brows squished. "What the hell was that?"
Yeah. What was happening? The gunshots were unmistakable and real. No intruder would be crazy enough to attack Nightfang Manor, not with the number of guards we have guarding the walls, not with the fact that we were the biggest pack in the districts. Everyone feared us.
Sylas, my husband, and Alpha moved away from the table and hurried to the windows, pulling the curtain. No sooner had he done that than another gunshot split the night with a resounding crack.
And following immediately after that was a loud, harrowing yell of pain that reverberated equally through the night.
Cold shivers slithered up my spine, burrowing through my bones as it dawned on me. We were truly under attack, for the first time in decades.
Sylas was already moving for his rifle as I crossed over fast to him. "It seemed we are under attack, darling." He announced, voice tight. "I am going to--"
His words were cut short by a shattering cry. A maid stood frozen by the broken pieces of ceramicware at her feet, her eyes widened with terror, restless, they darted from Sylas and me.
"I am sorry, my Luna," she managed in a shrill, terrified voice as she looked towards me. More terrified at Sylas's scowl than at the fact that we were attacked.
"Just get out," Silas snapped at her.
"Just forget about clearing the table for now. Gather all the maids, and you all should go find somewhere to hide." I said to her in a much calmer voice that I struggled to make steady.
Silas cocked his rifle and trained it towards the front door. I shifted too, picking up on the heavy roar of boots from outside. They pounded against the stone floors of the pavement, growing louder, harsher, my heartbeat echoing madly in sync.
Whoever they were? They were coming closer.
Just how could they have disarmed our guards in less than a minute? How did they get in?
We were supposed to be the most secure pack in the district.
Behind us, I heard the mad rush as the maid dashed deeper into the house. But I wasn't running. This was my home, and whatever happens, I was going to defend it to my last breath, just like Sylas.
I looked around the room for a weapon, and my gaze locked on the broken plates.
Quickly, I took off my scarf and scooped the broken plates into it, moving fast, though my hands were trembling badly. It was a miracle the shards didn't cut me.
I tied the scarf and moved to stand beside Sylas when the front door went down under the force of a battering ram. The whole manor shook beneath our feet, discordant cracks of gunshot split the manor as Sylas's rifle went off indiscriminately, sending splinters of wood into the air.
The attackers replied with a blast of gunshots, which overpowered ours. One took out my makeshift weapon easily, and the force jarred through my arms. My body rang with the tremors.
"Sylas, take cover," I screamed with horror. He still stood in the line of the incoming fire, while I had run to duck behind a table.
"I am okay, love. They can't take me down. They would--" A yell of pain replaced his words quickly. He staggered back as his shoulders took a hit. A patch of red grew fast around his right arm. The rifle fell to the floor, clattering before his staggering feet.
His unsteady footsteps felt like they were crushing and pounding against my heart.
"Sylas," I screamed, running out of my cover. "Sylas," I kept screaming, my voice shrill, racing over the debris to him.
Just before I could get to him, the attackers poured in furious numbers. One yanked me by the arm, and I was thrown back, with so much force I lost my balance.
I tripped and was going fast down when another attacker snatched me up by my hair. Whiteness exploded against my eyes, temporarily blinding me. Pain like tiny pinpricks of fire consumed my scalp, and I screamed in agony.
Two rough hands claimed my shoulders. They dragged me out into the pavement, throwing me roughly to the floor.
My heart began to pound so hard it felt like it would crack my ribs. The harsh, cold midnight air barreled into me from all sides. I followed eagerly through pain-dimmed vision the flush of moonlight spilling through the porous holes of what was left of the destroyed door, into the house.
One of the attackers stood over Sylas's writhing body on the floor, a dark, devilish grin on his face as he trained his rifle squarely on Sylas.
He was going to kill him. He was going to kill my husband. Adrenaline rushed through my veins like fire.
"Sylas!" I screamed. I scrambled instantly to my feet, rushing towards them blindly, uncaring that I might get in the way of the fire. "Sylas!"
"Selara! I'm sorry," he yelled back.
Then the gunshot echoed through the house, louder than anything I'd ever heard in my life.
Silas had crawled behind the dining table, so I couldn't see him, but I heard him make a loud, strangled cry as life left him. Pain tore through that cry so sharply it felt like claws raking through my chest, before silence stole everything.
A silence so profound, it barreled me down, and I staggered in my run, and froze cold on the spot I was.
For a terrifyingly long minute, I just stood there, unable to move, unable to do anything but stare at the empty air. I had just lost my husband, lost the man I love.
The world muted to nothing around me, even when the men snatched my arms, dragging me out.
I blanked out from my trance eventually. "No!" I slammed my fists against them, against the air, struggling for freedom, but their grip was just so strong. "Sylas! Sylas!"
My screams echoed back to me in intense notes that only made the pain sting harder.
I shoved and pushed against the grip on my arm, struggling for one last chance to see him again, but I just couldn't break free, especially as a third powerful hand claimed my shoulders, restricting me further.
Just thirty minutes ago, Sylas had been teasing me about how I was a slow eater. Then he'd called my name, giving me that seductive glance that warned me about how the night was supposed to end.
With both of us in each other's arms, on our beds, not with him dead, lying on the floor with bullet holes in him.
"Let go of me!" I struggled violently, clawing desperately at the arms pulling me away.
Again, their strong, practiced grip pinned me down, my feet digging into the soil, my back and legs crawling on the ground as they pulled me away.
One of them chuckled. "Still has spirit."
I tried to fight it, but couldn't. The tears spilled down my cheeks before I could stop them. They stung so bad I had to shut my eyes tight.
I heard the loud hum of a running car around me.
"Get her in," someone barked, and a trunk popped open.
Panic exploded inside me, as I was thrown inside like I weighed next to nothing, the world flipping upside down.
"No! No, wait—!" I twisted violently, trying to break free.
Before I could scramble up, the lid slammed shut.
Darkness swallowed me whole in the trunk, and the engine vibrated beneath me as the vehicle sped down the road. I kicked around in the trunk, pushed, but no matter what I did, I just couldn't break through.
I curled into myself, my hands trembling uncontrollably, my mind drifting again to Silas, helped by the silence around me.
Sylas was dead. A broken sob escaped my throat, my heart ripping itself to shreds inside of me.
But who were these men? Why did they attack us? We had no enemies, no quarrel with another pack, so why would they storm my home and kill the man I loved?
The car was still speeding down the road when another round of gunshots rang outside.
I started in the trunk, locked like a cargo, my body hitting the metal. Screams and wails followed the gunshots, and I heard the splattering of blood, too.
Whatever chaos was happening above me mirrored the one thriving inside of me.
The vehicle swerved sharply, and my shoulder slammed against the trunk again. It swerved again, charging left and right and everywhere, tossing me about the tiny space until the car screeched to a halt.
My breath caught, my mind pulled fast from Sylas, trying to make sense of what was going on outside.
Voices erupted outside.
"What the hell—"
A gunshot exploded, cutting the speaker short. Another gunshot came again. It reverberated so loud, I shut my eyes and winced.
I heard men shout. Heard someone scream again in agony, the sharp cracks of gunfire ripping through the night.
My heart pounded wildly as the trunk shook with the vibrations, and bodies slammed against the car with more gunshots.
Then silence came. Complete silence.
My breathing sounded deafening in the confined space.
Footsteps seemed to approach the car. Slow and heavy.
The lock to the trunk clicked, and light flooded the darkness as the trunk flew open.
I squinted against the sudden brightness.
A group of men stood over me. They weren't the same men who had kidnapped me. They looked different. Bigger and stronger. Their expressions were cold and dangerous.
One of them crouched slightly, studying me with sharp eyes.
"Well," he muttered. Another man beside him gave a low whistle. "Looks like the bandits had a prize."
My pulse thundered in my ears as I stared up at the unfamiliar faces. I could tell these men weren't here to rescue me. So who were they, and just what did they want with me?