Silas Nightwood's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

The howl died and the manor went silent. Silas gripped Luna's hands on the stairs. He knew the beast would come through a door or a window soon. He could fight it. But not while he stood between it and Luna, unsure which way she would run. His mate was unarmed, and fear for her would slow his hands. He needed her safe and hidden before the thing crossed his threshold. "Listen to me," he said. "The cellar has an iron door. You'll go there and bar it." Luna's ears pinned flat. She shook her head. "I won't hide while it tears you apart." "You'll die if you stay," Silas said. He held her face in his soot-stained hands. "I can't fight it and guard you both. If I know you're behind iron, I can let go. Do you understand? I need you safe to have any chance." Glass shattered somewhere in the east wing. Claws scraped stone. Luna flinched at the sound, then looked back at Silas. Her eyes were wet, but her jaw set hard. "You come back to me," she said. It was not a question. It was an order. "I will." She kissed him once, fast, then ran. Silas watched her disappear down the hall toward the cellar stairs. He heard the heavy door groan open. He heard it slam. He heard the iron bar drop into its bracket. Something in his chest loosened. She was safe. Now he could move. Silas turned toward the east wing and let the change take him. His bones stretched. Black fur swept over his skin. Where a man had stood, a great wolf now filled the hall, eyes burning pale, smoke curling off his shoulders like breath in cold air. The beast came around the corner. It was larger than him, its jaws wet, its tracks the same twice-sized prints he'd found by the dead sheep. It had hunted them for weeks. Now it had cornered them in their own home. But it had cornered only him. Silas hit it before it could lunge. They crashed through a table and into the wall. Teeth found his shoulder. He twisted free and drove the beast back down the hall, snapping at its throat. It was stronger, but he was faster, and he fought without one eye on the stairs. Every strike went where he aimed. He no longer had anything to protect but himself. He tore a long wound across the beast's flank. It yelped, broke away, and crashed through the shattered window into the dark. Silas stood in the wrecked hall, bleeding, and let the man rise back through the fur. He crossed to the cellar door and knocked twice. "It's me. It ran." The bar lifted. Luna threw the door open and pulled him inside. He was hurt, and the beast was still alive out there in the trees. But it knew now that his fangs could bite. And it knew the woman was beyond its reach.