Page 164 of Untamed

"An abomination," my false-father croaks.

We all look at him. The pale witch responds in her voice that drips with icicles, "you are going to be drowned in my Lake, wolf. Just like you tried to kill Henni."

"No."

All eyes turn to me. Mactiir's arm tightens around me, the low rumble a warning to all those eyes.

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Old Alpha... Oops… Alpha Jax

Holy mother-fucker. Little Luna is bloodthirsty.

Blout's screams for mercy fall on deaf ears. The chains holding him to the tree are so tight that they don't make a sound as he struggles helplessly to free himself. They are glowing, getting hotter.

I should have known something was up when Little Luna insisted on having a metal chain for this.The flames of the fuckingforest-firelick at Blout's heels.

I've heard of burning witches at the stake, but this seems a little extreme.

What am I thinking? It is extreme.

My head spins. All I think about is the hurt I've caused. The punishments I've carried out. The cold detachment that I've felt since my son was executed because of my shitty leadership is drifting away. No... not drifting. It's been obliterated. I have to feel again. My alpha-wolf can't fade away anymore.

Did that witch and this wolf cause Jessie to go insane? Would my decisions have been different if they hadn't been silently pulling the strings in the background?

A little hand slips into mine. I squeeze automatically, centered.

I look down into soft blue eyes filled with worry and feel the thoughts of plots and secrets leave my head. Chased away by how deeply I feel for my fairy-tale princess.

I love you, I mouth to her, over the screams of Blout.

She smiles wryly, her eyes flickering to his body. The flames are licking his chest. The wind seems to tease him, blowing the fire one way, then the next. So that just as it seems the fire is going to overwhelm him, the flames recede and give him relief.

I chuckle and pull Snow closer. So it's not the most romantic setting...

I look across the flames. The witch coven is shielding us from the fire as best they can, but the flames are growing ever higher, devouring the forest as we watch. Blout's mate is held on both sides. All three faces turned toward the fire in calm acceptance of this.

Blout's skin is melting from his body. One of the witches had gleefully told us that she could keep his lungs clear of the smoke. He'll die by burning in agony rather than smoke inhalation.

One last, long scream and I feel him die. The forest shudders. In unison, the witches pull away, their eyes fixed on Little Luna.

She stands in the clearing, her eyes fixed on the sky, a small smile curling her lips. Inuit paces just feet away, never out of touching distance, lips pulled back in a permanent snarl, guarding his precious mate.

A boom makes me jump. I grab Snow to my chest instinctively. A half-second later, the heavens open, and rain pours down on us.

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48 - Mark the Ogre

Willa

The vehicles travel slowly back home.

Home. Isn’t it odd to call it that? My she-wolf quivers, fluffing her coat, staring out at the sheets of rain pouring down from the sky. It obscures everything.Obscures; hides, conceals, masks.

Ironic that the world is shrouded in water. Ironic that we are heading away from the Lake and the odd little witch and her even odder mate, but we are all wet anyway. It’s as if the Lake is cloaking us as she beats down the flames to save my forest.

I humph out loud. I don’t want to owe any favors to the Lake. I do like her odd, pale little witch, though.

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