Page 57 of Cruel Moon
One last violent shake, and it’s over. Oliver’s massive white body goes limp, the light fading from his eyes. Dave stands over him, blood dripping from his muzzle, his eyes burning molten gold as he surveys the remaining gray wolves. His victory isn’t just physical—the raw alpha power rolling off him makes even my knees weak.
Dave shifts back to human form, naked and bloody but radiating authority.
The message is clear—choose.
One by one, Oliver’s surviving wolves lower themselves to the ground, throats bared in submission. All except two, who back away, tails low.
They’ve made their choice. Exile.
Bridget’s fingers relax in my fur, but her heartbeat pounds against my side. The taste of victory mingles with something sharper—fear of what’s still coming. Oliver might be dead, but we all know the real threat is still on its way.
The Salem Court won’t care about pack politics or territory disputes. They’re coming for her, for Emma, for all of us.
I press closer to my mate, drinking in her scent as her fingers scratch deep into my fur. We’ve won this battle, but the real war?
That’s just beginning.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Bridget Winslow
A Place to Belong
Salem Court taught me a thousand ways to break a body, and to heal one. Pretty sure they never expected me to use my magick to heal wolves, though. Yet here I am, hands steady, channeling healing magick into the jagged claw marks across a young wolf’s shoulder. He’s already healing on his own decently quickly, but the spell pushes it even faster.
“Good job,” Rachel murmurs beside me, her own magick weaving with mine. The wound knits closed under our combined power, angry red fading to pink, then to smooth skin. Only a faint silver line remains.
The makeshift infirmary we’ve set up in Aiden’s living room smells of blood and antiseptic. Injured wolves sprawl across couches and chairs, their wounds a mix of claw marks, bites, and ugly gashes. Body removal teams work in the field beyond the windows, but I keep my focus on what I can fix.
“You’re quite the natural at healing spells,” Rachel says as I move to the next patient, who has a deep cut on his ankle. My magick settles into the wound, knitting flesh together.
“TheMathairsdidn’t teach everyone healing spells.” I flex my fingers. “But because of my training I needed to be able to heal myself.”
A flash of anger crosses Rachel’s face, there and gone. “I know it wasn’t your choice. I just…really…”
I manage a small smile. “I know. And even though I’m grateful for the magick skills they taught me, I wish it’d been for different reasons and under different circumstances.”
She nods.
Everything I’ve been told my whole life is coming apart at the seams. I’d never seen a werewolf before coming here. Never seen a male witch. Male babies are not allowed to live.
My mind drifts and I’m fourteen again, watching from the shadows as a young witch sobs, cradling her newborn son.
“Please,” she begs Elsa. “Just let me hold him a little longer.”
“You know the rules,” Elsa says, her voice gentle in a way that makes my stomach turn. “Male witches are dangerous. Unstable. This is kinder than letting him grow up to become a monster. He’ll hurt you. Turn on all of us. Kill us.”
The mother’s screams echo through the halls as they take her baby. I press myself deeper into the alcove, hands clamped over my mouth to stay silent. That night, Elsa finds me in the training yard, attacking a practice dummy with blind fury.
“It bothers you,” she says. Not a question.
“It’s cruel,” I whisper, expecting punishment for my doubt.
Instead, she pulls me close, stroking my hair like my own mother used to. “The cruelest choices are often the most necessary, little dove. Remember that. The Court protects us all, even when it hurts.”
I believed her then. Buried my doubts beneath layers of duty and devotion. But now—I wonder how many other lies I was taught to swallow. I shake off the memory and move quickly to the next person that needs my help.
Children peek out from behind furniture, waiting for their fathers or brothers to be patched up, their eyes wide as they watch me make wounds disappear one by one.
