Chapter 165

Aria

The first gunshot rang out just as the sunrise touched the horizon.

I froze, my breath catching as several more shots followed in quick succession. Within seconds, the morning air filled with shouts. The quiet village we’d turned into a trap erupted into chaos.

The medical team I’d been assigned to consisted of five people: myself, two nurses, and two warriors with basic field medical experience. We were positioned in a small house near the eastern edge of the village.

I was about to suggest that one of us check outside when the door burst open. Two warriors stumbled in, supporting a third between them. Blood soaked the injured warrior’s shirt, and he grimaced in pain.

“Arrow,” one of the warriors explained, helping their injured comrade onto the table. “He was guarding the northern entrance when they came through with crossbows.”

I moved forward immediately, examining the wound. The arrow had pierced the warrior’s upper chest, missing his heart but embedding deeply in the muscle. He was lucky—a few inches to the left and he would have been dead.

“We need to get this out,” the most experienced said, moving forward. “Can you hold him down?”

I nodded, positioning myself at one of the warrior’s shoulders while another nurse took the other, and the two warriors stationed with us took his feet.

“This will hurt,” the nurse warned the injured warrior. He nodded grimly, his jaw clenched.

She wrapped her fingers around the shaft of the arrow, counting out loud. On three, she pulled with a sharp, decisive motion. The warrior growled in pain, his eyes flashing amber, but he remained still as the arrow slid free from his flesh.

Blood welled from the wound immediately. I pressed a clean cloth against it, applying pressure while the other nurse prepared antiseptic and bandages.

“The bleeding’s slowing already,” I observed, relief washing through me. Werewolf healing was a blessing. “You’ll be okay.”

The warrior nodded weakly. Once we’d cleaned and bandaged his wound, I helped move him to a cot in the corner of the room where he could rest and recover.

Just as we finished, another injured werewolf was brought in. And then another. The trickle quickly became a flood as more wounded warriors arrived, each bearing evidence of the brutality outside—gunshot wounds, knife cuts, broken bones.

My hands grew sticky with blood as I worked alongside the nurses, cleaning wounds, applying pressure to stop bleeding, splinting broken limbs. The sounds of battle drew closer, and occasionally the house shook as explosions went off nearby.

In a brief moment of quiet, I closed my eyes and focused my thoughts.

“Darren?” I reached out through our Mindlink. “Are you there? Are you safe?”

For a terrifying second, there was nothing—just empty silence. Then:

“I’m here, Aria. The first wall has been breached, but we’re holding our own. Their numbers are smaller than we expected.”

Relief flooded through me. “Be careful,” I urged.

“Always. You stay safe too.” The connection faded as he returned his focus to the battle.

Suddenly, a shout from outside pulled me back to the present. I looked out the window to see another group of medical personnel struggling with an injured werewolf in wolf form. They couldn’t carry him, and he was too injured to walk.

“I’m going to help them,” I announced, already moving toward the door. “Keep working here.”

Before anyone could protest, I rushed outside. The morning air hit me like a punch to the face—not just the cool temperature, but the acrid smell of smoke and something chemical. A thin fog had begun to spread through the village, creeping along the ground like morning mist.

Only it wasn’t mist.

It was whe chemicals Raven had warned us of. They’d started using them.

My eyes immediately began to burn, and a wave of dizziness washed over me. But it was manageable—nowhere near the complete incapacitation we’d feared. Dr. Edward’s antidote seemed to be working.

I pushed through the discomfort, running toward the injured wolf and the medical team. The wolf’s dark fur was matted with blood from a wound on his flank. He whined in pain as one of the medics tried to apply pressure to the injury.

“Let me help,” I called, kneeling beside them. “We need to get him inside.”

Together, we managed to fashion a makeshift stretcher from a fallen door and carried the injured wolf toward our medical station. The fog grew thicker as we moved, burning my throat and making my vision blur at the edges. Around us, the sounds of battle continued—gunfire, shouts, howls of pain.

We were halfway to the house when a high-pitched scream cut through the din. I froze, my head snapping toward the sound.

A child’s scream.

“Take him,” I instructed the others, relinquishing my hold on the stretcher. “I need to check that.”

I ran toward the sound, rounding the corner of a building. The fog swirled around my ankles as I moved, my heart hammering in my chest. What was a child doing here? All children should have been evacuated hours ago.

I skidded to a stop as I found the source of the scream. A small boy—no more than seven or eight years old—cowered against a wall. His eyes were fixed on something in front of him. Following his gaze, I saw what had frightened him: a human soldier advancing slowly, rifle raised and pointed directly at the child.

A human child.

They weren’t just here for werewolves. They didn’t care who they hurt.

The soldier’s finger tightened on the trigger. There was no time to think, no time to reason with him. The child was going to die if I didn’t act.

I didn’t hesitate.

The shift came more quickly than it ever had before. One moment I was human, the next I was wolf—my white fur gleaming in the early morning light as I launched myself forward. The soldier’s eyes widened in surprise as I threw myself between him and the child.

The gun went off with a deafening crack.

Pain exploded through my shoulder as the bullet tore into me. I stumbled but didn’t fall, a snarl ripping from my throat as I positioned myself protectively in front of the child. The soldier raised his gun again, but before he could fire, a dark shape slammed into him from the side—another werewolf had seen what was happening and intervened. They fell to the ground, rolling across the grass as the soldier fumbled for the pistol attached to his hip.

I turned to the child, who stared at me in shock. Blood matted my white fur where the bullet had struck, making my shoulder nearly give out, but I forced myself to remain standing. Slowly, I lowered myself to the ground, nodding my head toward my back. The child hesitated for only a moment before climbing on, his fingers tangling in my fur.

Pain shot through my injured shoulder as I stood, but I ignored it. Getting the child to safety was all that mattered now.

I ran through the village streets, dodging scuffles and debris. Each step sent fresh waves of agony through me, but I kept going. The child clung to my fur, pressing his small body to my back.

The fog grew thicker, making it harder to see. My eyes burned, and confusion began to cloud my thoughts—the chemical was affecting me more strongly now, perhaps because I was injured. I shook my head, trying to clear it. I had to focus. Had to get the child to safety.

Darren’s father’s estate lay beyond the outskirts of the village. I pushed myself harder, my breath coming out hoarse and ragged. Blood dripped from my wound with each stride, leaving a trail behind us.

My vision started to tunnel, darkness creeping in at the edges. The pain in my shoulder had become a burning, pulsing agony. But I could see the estate now, just ahead.

Just… a little… further.

My paws felt like lead as I crossed the final stretch of ground to the estate’s entrance. Guards spotted me immediately, rushing forward. I recognized Wendy among them, her expression changing from alert to one of pure horror as she saw me—a white wolf carrying a human child, my fur stained red with blood.

“Aria!” she gasped, reaching for the child on my back.

Another figure appeared beside her—Bella, her eyes widening as she took in my condition.

The child was lifted from my back, and the sudden absence of weight made me stagger. My legs wouldn’t hold me anymore. I tried to shift back to human form, but couldn’t find the strength to complete the transformation.

The world tilted sideways as I collapsed to the ground. Voices called my name, hands reaching for me, but they seemed distant, unimportant.

The last thing I saw was Wendy and Bella’s terrified faces hovering above me before darkness took hold.