Aida

The blood on my hands infects my nose with a stream of punches from the pungent stench. I desperately want to wash it off, but I can't seem to make my legs move. Or my arms. Or anything. The frantic rush of my own blood from my panicking heart is booming in my ears, and I can't seem to silence it.

This can't really be happening. This can't be how it all ends, can it? I try not to look at the still form of the body splayed next to me, lying in a pose that would normally make her seem like she was asleep if it weren't for the fact that her eyes are open, dead and staring at the almost light sky. Her arms are twisted in an unnatural way that makes her appear to be reaching out for me. Again.

Or perhaps she is reaching for the body next to her. Her mate. Or rather, what was once her mate. It's a macabre setting, really. A post-mortem family affair. Regardless of what they are now, they both were once, biologically, my parents.

A small laugh escapes my mouth and I listen as the silence around me sucks it back up, whisking it away with all the other normal, happy sounds. Wherever they may be. It seems awfully incorrect to be laughing at such a time or such a thing but therein lies the absolute joke that my life is.

As soon as I'm finally happy, things come crashing down. And here's the real kicker: the orphan is an orphan for real this time.

I'm not sure if the corrosive silence that surrounds me now is a good thing or a bad thing. Does it mean the fight is over? Or is it the eye of the raging, blood filled storm? Is that good or bad? Did we win or did they?

Where is everyone? Where is anyone? Are they here or have they returned to the house?

Arge. Oh my god. Where is Arge? James?

The sudden rush of emotion makes me sick to my stomach and then upturns it. I lean over away from the bodies and heave my stomach contents out. There isn't much. I didn't even get to eat at all before the siren rang out.

The warning from the border. The last thing we all heard before literal hell broke loose. That was the last time I saw anyone from our little fireplace gathering.

Alive, anyway.

The first body I came across flashes through my broken memory now. Panic stricken, we all screamed out into the middle of the night, and I ended up tripping over Argos's huge human form. The pain filled scream that left Argent's mouth the minute he saw him still sounds in my head. Desperate and devastating. The sight will forever be etched into our memories along with the image of his neck completely torn away.

Two grown men, both his sons, both seeing him as their father more than a leader, knelt at his side. Broken. Not believing the strongest and most formidable figure of their entire lives was gone. Taken. Tears streamed down their faces, all of our faces, and then pooled onto the ground, mixing with his blood like an evil paint pallet. The pack gathered around us, mourning as one, the anger and sadness mixed into one pulsing, community thought. Revenge.

And then fear.

After that is a blur.

I need to shake the dark and dizzy thoughts from my mind and focus. I need to find them. Help them. Or find out if I'm too late.

What happened? How did we not know they were here until it was too late? I need to figure out what went wrong. I need to find my family.

Dragging my feet underneath me, closing my eyes and myself off to the bodies in front of me, I force my body up to stand, wiping my mouth on my sleeve and dragging my hands down my sweater to try to rid them of some of the red crust, the drying reminder of what I have just done.

I force the fear out of my mind and back into the deepest pool of my brain. I'll deal with that trauma another day. Add it to the list of things I need therapy for. The irony is not lost on me.

Eyes closed, mind open, I'm straining to find my wolf, to draw on her strength and at the very least, her intuition. I think the bite is interfering because I can't hear her. It feels like she's trapped inside my subconscious, trying to force her way out.

Oh god. The bite. She bit me. My mother bit me. My head hurts, and my body feels cold. Too cold. I stagger away from the clearing I'm in and find shelter under a tree. The bushes provide cover while I try to catch my breath and attempt to regroup.

Think. Think, Aida. What the fuck happened?

I close my eyes and try to recall the last thing I can clearly remember.

It's the fireplace. The couples all gathered together. I can see us now, warm and safe. Comfortable in our little group. Stupidly so. We were so wrapped up in our happy little bubble that we didn't hear it happening. We didn't expect it, and that was our first mistake.

Not until the siren sounded, shocking us all and slipping us into immediate chaos.

In my memory, the great many lives of the house are awake now, people running to the safe house, being directed to take the younger ones with them.

James a look of fear. He has been through this before. Too many times. He's lost too much in this game.

Argent squeezes my hand as he listens intently to the link from the front line.

They're here. Already moving inside the pack grounds. Many of them. But how? How did they get in so easily?

The answer is not one we wanted to hear.

The front line is all dead, Arge. Everyone. I came to switch places with them, and not one is left alive. And that's not all. Argent ...it's about the Alpha.

We don't need to hear anymore. James and Deacon can sense something is very wrong just by the same terrified look that both Arge and I wear.

"What is it?" James asks, taking my hand and looking at Arge.

"Father," he says softly.

James pales and heads for the doors, all of us trying to shake off the cloak of fear that has enveloped the entire room. We follow the chaotic sounds out into the hall and tear out into the dark grounds. The smell hits us hard and fast.

Death.

Argos.

Argent, James and Jemma take off into the dark with Amalie and I on their heels. We pause as Deacon pulls Amalie close, letting her know he will meet up with us after he assembles his warriors. She nods, gripping onto my hand as we trail along after the boys.

How unfair that they are thrust into this drama so soon after finding each other.

As we run behind the three, trailing a little now, I feel more than see a presence down the side of one of the residences. As I look closer, I see a dark shape moving to the side of a house as the boys take off even further ahead. I send Amalie after them as I slow to have a closer look, falling in the process as the shape moves off, no longer in my field of vision.

It's not until I turn after tripping over something that I realise it's a someone.

The scent of him is masked by the of the blood of others, but as I get close to him, it's very evident who it is.

Our leader. Our Alpha.

I check his pulse, but from the adjustment my eyes finally make in the dark, I can see his throat has been ripped away, his chords bare for all to see. His life force slips out all around him like a desperate tide trying to make its way home.

He's long gone.

I scream out loud. Or maybe it's in the link? I don't know. But the tone of my voice hits my target and in a few seconds the group rounds the corner, shouting and bawling. Emotion overwhelming all of them as they sink to their knees around their father. The two sons and a daughter. Two Alphas and a Luna. This man who was larger than life in every way, so easily brought down in one night.

The emergency lights flicker on above our heads, and the village is bathed in dim light, casting an eery shadow over the scene in front of us.

A crowd starts to form as we stare at the horrific scene in front of us. The mourning is immediate and devastating. Argent and Amalie sit either side of their father, hands on his heart, tears spilling down their faces and onto their entwined hands.

James and Jemma stand just behind, and he is wrapped in her arms as she tries desperately to comfort his uncontrollable sorrow-filled sobs.

Deacon moves to stand beside me, placing his arm at my back and watching our other halves realise they're orphans now too.

The line guards soon return and move to whisper with Deacon. He nods as they retreat and turns to face me. "Aida, A large group of vampires and wolves have moved out to our west, and they've taken a group of women and children hostage." His words are quiet, trying not to disturb the mourning.

Great.

"A token it seems," he adds, and I frown, not quite understanding. He swallows hard and leans in close to my ear. "Aida, they'll give them all back safely if you go to them now. Alone."

He stares at me as the information sinks in.

They're here for me just like Jasper said. This is my fault. Argos dying is my fault. Without saying another word, I nod curtly at Deacon and slip away. He quietly catches up with me and grabs my hand, turning me to face him.

"You're not going there alone, Aida. That is not an option."

I shake out of his grasp and continue moving back to the house. I have no time to waste. "I know, but I can't sit around and do nothing," I reply without stopping or turning to face him. Instead I trudge onwards, towards my target.

Towards him.

"Then what are you doing?" he asks, catching up to me and clearly not giving up his chase.

"I'm going to see my father. He's going to end this shit once and for all before anyone else I care about gets hurt because of me!" I yell out to no one in particular.

Deacon doesn't reply; he just simply follows along. The silence is not uncomfortable. If anything, it gives me time to try to formulate some sort of plan. An idea starts to form in my head, but just like every other plan I have, it's crazy, definitely dangerous, and most certainly something Argent would say no to.

That's exactly how I know it's the right thing to do.

I just need to shake Deacon. The only person who needs to be at risk here is me. I won't be responsible for any more death today.

Before we make it to the entrance, I swing around and stop, causing Deacon to run into my front.

"Deacon, I need you to be there for Argent and James right now. And Amalie. I need you to make sure everyone in the pack is safe. And I need you to take charge of the lines while I do what I need to do," I tell him, hoping he doesn't see through my fake resolve. I know he's dutiful and that what I have said is true enough for him to rethink tailing me.

"With all due respect, Aida, Arge would kick my ass if he knew I let you do whatever it is you're doing alone." He smiles as he says this, and we both know he's right.

Damn it.

I try something else.

"I swear, I'm not rushing off to meet vampires on a death mission. I just need ... time. My father knows more than he's admitted about this attack, and I'm going to use him to help get those people back. I'm going to make them pay. For Argos and Amalie."

He stares at me, head tipped to the side, trying to work out just how full of shit I am.

The distant howling and yelling breaks his resolve, and though he looks torn, he turns to go. We both know he's needed. The other Alphas are not at their best.

As he starts to run, he shouts over his shoulder at me, "Don't you fucking dare make me regret this, Aida!"

I wave and watch as he disappears into the dark.

We both know he's going to be mad at what I do next. I just hope it's worth it.