Ravensong (Green Creek 2)

And suddenly the roses began to bloom in the ice, the flowers thick and fibrous. The wall burst into vibrant life, as wild and fierce as my Alphas’ eyes. Ravens flew along the vines, grasping them in their talons and pulling them up higher, until the wall in front of us was completely filled with roses. The fire burned behind it, making the garden look as if it was alight.

A single silver ball bearing made its way through the ice. There was a small crack as it came out the other side. It fell into the snow at my feet even as debris from the Lighthouse rained down around us. Wolves climbed on top of me, pressing me down into the snow as they shielded me from flaming debris.

I could barely breathe.

Those people.

All those people.

Rico.

And Jessie.

And it’d been my fault. All my fault.

“No,” Ox whispered in my ear, “no, Gordo, it wasn’t,” and I realized I’d been saying that aloud. “Gordo, you saved us. You need to listen to me. I need you to listen to me.”

gordo gordo gordo

Mark grunted as a heavy piece of something hit his back, but he wouldn’t move. He wouldn’t leave me.

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t—

The raven flew again.

The wolves were knocked off me with a furious burst of magic, Joe shouting in surprise, Mark snarling as he hit the ground. I pushed myself to my feet even before they could move. I pressed my hand against the rose ice wall, cursing in anger when I realized I didn’t have a fucking hand anymore, but it didn’t matter. The wall shattered, and I cried out as heavy chunks of ice filled with blooms landed on my head, my shoulders. I pushed through it, needing to get

to Jessie, needing to get to Rico. I remembered when Tanner had brought me a little sandwich while I was buried in grief at the loss of my mother at the hands of my father, and how he’d brought Rico a taquito, a motherfucking taquito, and Rico had told him that was racist, that was racist, and how dare he. I had brought them into this life I had tried so hard to keep them away from, because they were my normal, they were my safety. They were there when everyone had left me behind. And now look at them. Chris and Tanner had been hurt, they’d been tortured because of me, and now Rico was—oh Jesus, Rico was—

The Lighthouse had been leveled to its foundations. Wood burned, hissing when it hit the wet snow. The bar top was gone, and tiny bits of glass shone like stars in the firelight littering the floor.

Elijah was—not much of her remained. The wolf skin had been shredded, and the head was burning. Elijah herself had mostly been destroyed. One of her legs remained. Her arm. I thought I saw what was left of her gun, the iron blackened and smoking.

I stepped over her, choking on smoke, trying to push my way into the Lighthouse, needing to find them, needing to see for myself that they were gone because of me. They were gone, and there was nothing I could do about it.

Except…

There was nothing there.

Even through the smoke, even through the storm that raged in my head, there was nothing there.

Strong hands wrapped around me, pulling me away, away, away.

I fell down into the snow outside the Lighthouse. My eyes burned from the smoke. I coughed roughly, on my hand and knees, head bowed. I struggled to take a deep breath, but my lungs hurt.

Mark knelt before me, once again human. He took my face in his hands and lifted me toward him.

His eyes were violet, but his touch was soft and forgiving. The raven on his throat stood out bright in the moonlight.

“Gone,” he said through gritted teeth. “Already gone. Out. Escaped.”

I didn’t understand. I was exhausted. What remained of my strength was rapidly diminishing. I’d pushed too hard in the end. To save them. My pack.

Mark look frustrated, mouth a thin line, like he couldn’t find the right words.