Chapter Thirteen
The dream started out the same as last time, and Brandon knew he’d have to go with it or end up in pain from fighting it again. He screamed as teeth bit into his flesh, the eyes of the wolf at his side sorrowful yet full of a rage that wasn’t quite kept in check.
Brandon fell to the ground at his brothers’ sides. He didn’t want to die this way but had a feeling this was the end. This wolf had won, and Brandon hadn’t been strong enough to fight.
The dream faded but not fully. This time, a woman with long, dark hair and bright blue eyes stared at him, her long, flowing, white dress waving in a breeze he couldn’t feel.
“You’re not dying, Brandon,” she said softly.
He knew that voice; had heard it on the wind in his childhood and later when he’d become the Omega.
“Goddess?”
She smiled softly at him, and he knew this was no mere dream. This was something else, and there was no way he was hallucinating or making this up. He wasn’t sure he had the imagination to come up with anything like this.
“You’re not dying, Brandon,” she repeated. There was just something so otherworldly about her that he knew this had to be the moon goddess. He had countless questions, and yet nothing to say. What could he say in her presence? What could he ask?
“You’re such an old soul, my Brandon. Much like your brothers, Kameron and Walker. The three of you were born under the same moon and have always been as one. You were once man, then wolf, now man and wolf. You have lived before, your soul not young, but aged and worn.”
Brandon sat up within his dream, his body not aching at all despite the fact that he’d almost died a few moments ago. The wolf stood frozen at his side, agony within its eyes. His brothers lay to the right, frozen in time, as well.
He thought over her words and frowned. “Are you saying…this was a past life that I’m seeing?”
She smiled. “You were always so clever, Brandon. The first brother to find his mates, the first brother to do so in the past, as well.” She waved at the wolf at Brandon’s side. “This was my first wolf.” Sadness crossed her face. “I have always regretted the pain I caused him—the pain I caused his line. Yes, he broke our laws, but he never deserved the agony he suffered.” She looked directly at Brandon, a fierceness in her eyes he couldn’t comprehend. “I couldn’t take away the wolf or the way one must become another, but I gave him his bonds to a Pack he formed on his own. I gave him the ability to love so deeply that eons of time wouldn’t be enough for a mating bond to break. You are of the first wolves to be made—you and your brothers.” She looked away as Brandon’s entire being rocked at her words.
“Are you saying I’m of that line?” Or was it something more.
“You are both,” she answered, not looking at him. “You are of that lineage, yes, but you are something more, as well. You were him.”
Brandon blinked. “Are you talking about reincarnation?” One day, he would sit down with the rest of his family and tell them about this conversation with a goddess about wolves and reincarnation, but he was pretty sure either way he’d feel off-kilter.
She nodded, still not looking at him. “That is one word for it.” She looked at him again. “I grow old, young one. As do my people. The world has changed so much in such a short time, and I’m afraid of what might come next.”
Chills racked his body. If a goddess was afraid…then perhaps there truly was no hope for them.
“What can we do?” he asked, his voice breaking.
“There is one…” She trailed off. “There is a chance. Beyond the lines and divisions, there is one who can save you, save us. One that will need your help.
“A wolf of three Packs can break their will or unite them all.
“Once united, the Packs will reveal…
“If broken, the Packs will fall…”
Her mouth didn’t move as the last three sentences were whispered in his ear. He blinked, trying to understand what had just happened. But before he could ask, he opened his eyes and found himself once again in his bed, Avery wrapped around his side and Parker tucked in safely behind her.
Holy shit.
He sat up, carefully untangling himself from Avery so he wouldn’t wake her or Parker. He let the goddess’s words roll around in his brain as he tried to make sense of them. But the thing was, he’d heard those words before—from Parker. It was the same prophecy the European elders had told him when Parker had touched the spear.
Between that and the moon goddess, whatever those words meant, it was important. He looked over at his mates’ sleeping forms, a frown on his face. The last two sentences of the prophecy seemed to be the outcome of the first. Meaning it was who the prophecy was about that was important.
And there was only one person Brandon knew that carried the blood of three Packs within his veins.
And he was sleeping in Brandon’s bed.
Before Brandon could let that settle over him, the house shook as an explosion rang out. He was out of bed and had his feet stuffed into his boots in the next instant. Parker had done the same thing next to him, while Avery scrambled out of bed, sliding into the jeans they’d left on the floor the night before.
“What’s going on?” she asked, her voice alert for this time of night.
Brandon’s phone buzzed on the nightstand, and he answered it quickly. “What is it?”
“Bombing outside the north gate,” Mitchell answered, his voice a growl. “You and Parker get out here now and be ready to fight. There’s a group of men and women in all black with guns and other weapons, ready to take us down.” He paused. “Send Avery to the infirmary with Leah. She’s not ready to fight yet, but she can help there.”
Brandon bit out a curse. “Got it.” He tucked his phone in his pocket and slid on a shirt. He’d have to fight in sweats, but that was fine since he might have to shift later anyway.
“We heard,” Avery said as she tied her shoes. “Wolf hearing is something I’m going to have to get used to.” She spoke so quickly, he knew she was trying to hold back her panic. This wasn’t the world she’d grown up in, and hell, it wasn’t quite the life he’d had either, but she was still moving forward as best she could.
Parker kissed her hard, and then Brandon moved closer to do the same.
“Be safe,” Brandon said softly.
Avery looked between them, her eyes gold. “You two are the ones going out there, so you both had better be safe.” She gripped their hands. “Take care of one another, okay?”
Brandon squeezed her hand and nodded before pulling away and heading out of the house, Parker by his side. Avery jogged the other direction, and people moved quickly around them, going to their posts. The maternals and submissives would protect the children, while the dominants would secure the perimeter and fight. If anyone somehow got through the wards, the adult wolves inside would fight to the death for the children, regardless of their wolf’s dominance. It was how their Pack worked—at least now. It hadn’t been that way under the old Alpha—his father’s regime—and that was one thing Brandon was happy about.
Parker and Brandon hurried to the north gate in silence, no words needing to be said. He firmly pushed all thoughts of prophecies and reincarnation out of his mind, his wolf ready to take down anyone that threatened his den. They were at Mitchell’s and Kameron’s sides quickly, each of their wolves ready.
“What do we have?” Brandon asked. This wasn’t Parker’s Pack, and though things might change soon, it was Brandon who needed to ask the questions.
“Bombing knocked down a few trees and fucked with some of our surveillance, but no one was hurt,” Kameron said. “Only problem is that there’s a group out there dressed like fucking commandos, and they’re way too organized to be a simple hate group.”
“Shit,” Parker growled.
“Shit is right,” Mitchell spat. “We’re waiting on the go-ahead from Gideon, but we’ll have to take them out. Either by knocking them unconscious or literally if they’re a true threat. We already staked our claim on this land in front of the world, and rolling back now will do us no good.”
Brandon nodded, agreeing. When Gideon let out a howl, he growled, moving forward with the rest of them. The die had been cast, and now it was time to protect their den—even if it left a mark on their souls in the process.
As soon as they’d slid through the wards, the unit in front of them moved, guns firing before anyone had a chance to take a breath. Brandon ducked out of the way, his wolf at the surface so his reflexes were faster than normal. He took down the closest attacker, knocking him out so he’d be down for the count for a few hours at least. Parker fought at his side, doing the same to the human near him. They didn’t want to kill anyone, but damn it, these guys were firing at them, and Brandon knew blood would spill that night.
The group might be highly organized and much more than a simple hate-crime group, but the wolves were better, faster. Each of his Packmates took down the enemy one by one, not having to take a single life. He knew this was too easy, and felt that there was something wrong, but he couldn’t stop to think about it or he’d end up dead.
As soon as they’d gotten the last one down and began tying them up, a click sounded in Brandon’s ear, and he turned. Mitchell threw Parker to the ground next to them, and time froze.
His cousin roared, blood gushing from his leg as he rolled off Parker and slammed his hand over the wound. A clearly shaken Parker snarled before leaping up higher than Brandon thought possible into the tree closest to them. Moments later, a man with a rifle fell out of the tree, neck broken and his body lying in a heap like a ragdoll. Parker jumped out of the tree at that instant, his gaze gold, and his chest heaving.
Brandon let out a breath, kneeling at Mitchell’s side and trying to stop the blood flow.
“Hit my fucking artery,” Mitchell gritted out. “Fucking coward, doing that after everything else was clear and he thought he was safe.”
Parker growled low next to them. “Would have killed me,” he said, his voice all wolf, no trace of man.
“But it didn’t,” Walker put in. “Now get out of my way so I can heal him. Mitchell, you’re going to have to shift, and it’s going to hurt like a motherfucker, but it’s the only way I’m going to be able to stop the bleeding out here.”
Mitchell paled but did as he was told. Brandon helped Parker strip Mitchell out of his clothes as the others worked to form a protective circle around them. It would be too dangerous to move behind the wards, but no one dared say that.
Brandon saw the guilt in Parker’s eyes and knew he’d have to do something about it soon, but first, he needed to make sure his cousin was safe. Mitchell didn’t make a sound through most of his shifting while Walker clamped his hand over the wound. Having to shift with someone holding you and while you were in pain had to be excruciating, but it wasn’t until the end when Walker had his hand on Mitchell’s fur that his cousin let out a small whine. That enraged Brandon’s wolf, and he let out a tiny growl, pissed off that people were still trying to kill his family just because they weren’t normal.
Finally, Walker wavered, his body weakening from the amount of power he must have had to use on Mitchell, and Parker went to help the other man stand. “Let’s get back inside,” Walker said when he was on his feet.
“I’ll stay behind to help clean up the mess,” Parker said, his voice devoid of emotion.
Kameron shot Brandon a look, but Brandon shook his head. If Parker needed to do something to get over his guilt, then, for now, he would let him. When they were alone with Avery or even alone together later, he’d figure out the best way to make sure his mate understood that this wasn’t this fault.
The blame belonged to those who wanted to hurt them. Those that didn’t understand them. And each attack was getting more organized and hurting them more and more. There was only so much they could take until one day they broke.
The prophecy came to his mind again, and Brandon froze. It meant something…but what? What could they do when the world seemed bleak and there were no obvious answers?
Brandon wasn’t sure, but no matter what, he wouldn’t let those he cared about drown alone.
Not again.