“I’m being serious—”
I snatched her chin in my hand. Everyone around us stopped and looked over. Never in my life had I laid a hand on Charolette. But then again, I had never lost my mate, and I had never had this much control of Mars.
At least Mars knew when to stop. Mars knew what was right and what was wrong. Mars knew I needed to be healed. But I didn’t fucking care. My mate was out there. And I had to find her.
Charolette pulled herself out of my grip. “I told you not to go out to find that stone.”
“Leave, right now, Charolette.”
She was testing me.
“Leave now.”
“Not until you get healed,” she said stubbornly. “What would Aurora think?”
When she said her name, I growled lowly and clenched my fists by my sides, everything in me hurting. What would Aurora think about this? I wasn’t sure. But I knew what I thought …
I thought that Aurora was dead.
Chapter 41
Aurora
A thunderous roar of paws hitting the forest floor echoed throughout the cave. Cries from my old and new pack had stopped hours ago, which meant that these were hounds coming to kill me, and I had no way of getting out of here alive unless I acted now.
The hound who had healed me sat by the entrance with his ears pinned back and his eyes scanning the surrounding woods. I gazed around the cave at anything that I could use for a weapon. Whoever he was had saved me … but I couldn’t stay. Not when Ares was out there.
I wouldn’t go down without a fight. If I got to Ares before he died, I might be able to put my stone in his back, so he could live. I’d give my entire life for him to stay alive, for him to be happy even if it was just for a moment. He didn’t deserve any more hurt.
“Let me out,” I said to the wolf through trembling lips. “Let me out now!”
When he didn’t respond, I grasped a medium-sized rock I’d found toward the back of the cave and slowly approached him. Goddess, I didn’t know why I was afraid of hurting this hound. Though he had saved me twice, he was part of their vicious group of creatures, and he was holding me hostage until they came back for me.
It should be easy for me to kill him.
After swallowing hard, I took another step toward him and grasped the rock in both of my hands.
His head, Aurora. Go for his head, then sprint out of the cave, and don’t stop running. Not until you find Ares’s body … then we can stop. Then, they can kill me for all I care.
With trembling hands, I lifted the rock into the air and aimed. Before I could stop myself, I closed my eyes and hurled the rock straight at his head. It hit with a thud and cracked his skull.
The sound made me recoil. I had hurt people before—broken Marcel’s finger, killed hounds with my knife—but this felt so wrong. Something about hurting him—the only hound that had helped me before, the hound with the stone like mine—it felt so fucking wrong.
Growling lowly, he shook his head from side to side as blood gushed out of his wound. I rushed out of the cave, but he followed me and sank his teeth into my calf to stop me from moving.
I gazed down at him, trying to pull my leg away but couldn’t. My eyes filled with tears. This was so fucking sad. I was so fucking sad. Why did I feel bad for hurting him when … when … all his kind did was kill viciously?
The hound made eye contact with me for the first time, and my heart stopped. Familiar eyes stared up at me, and my eyes filled with even more tears.
No. No … I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t true.
He pleaded with me to stop moving, begged me with his tiny whimpers. I inhaled deeply and smelled cornfields, endless memories, and better days. Swinging at the playground. Chasing each other through the park. Staring up at the moon and talking about how we’d meet the Moon Goddess one day.
More howls sounded through the woods, and the hound’s eyes widened. They were coming for me. He released me almost immediately and nudged me in the direction of Mom’s pack, as if to say, Go.
“Wh-what about you?” I asked breathlessly. Tears spilled down my cheeks. “You c-can’t stay here.” I didn’t want to lose him, not when I—
Stop, Aurora. He’s not real. It’s not really him.
He died.
“Go,” he said through the mind link. It was faint, and I barely heard it … but he said it. “Meet again.”
I swallowed hard, gave him one last look, and sprinted toward my Ares. My heart told me to stay with this hound, but my wolf tugged me toward my mate. We needed to see him, dead or alive. And so I ran and I ran and I ran until I could smell the putrid stench of pools of blood.
Wolves littered the woods, their lifeless bodies covered in claw marks and bite wounds. Fur hung from trees. Flies flew over bloody guts. The lush greens had turned a sanguine color.
I gazed at each and every one of the men and women, remembering when I used to train with them, when Mom used to let me train. Young men and women, some teenagers, most warriors.
The hounds didn’t care who they killed. They’d killed people who hadn’t even been on the battlefield earlier. Houses had their doors wide open. Windows were shattered. Blood splattered against the siding.
My lips quivered. I was a bad luna and a bad alpha. This was all my fault. Every single one of these deaths was on my
