I push my body to the limit, gathering the power inside me. The power I’ve kept at bay for so damn long. The song of my heart has always been a drum line, hard and fast.
But maybe it can be more. If my sister can sing a song that calms the sea, maybe the song of my heart can be one that is soft, not wrecked and ruined. Instead, my heart can heal.
My hands ache as I push out the power, but it works. The more power I send toward Ares, the more impossible it is for him to fight it. He may be a Greek god, but it turns out I am a Greek goddess.
And I have been waiting for this fight my whole damn life.
“Enough,” I say, to both him and myself. “Enough.”
And so, it is. My peace binds him, pushing him further and further back. We move past the tree clearing, into the woods, and my strength continues to break him down, until he’s on all fours, crawling toward a cave in the distance. I don’t know how long we walk, my arms outstretched forcing him away, but eventually, we end up in the same cave I slept in the night I was with the men. He is forced to crawl inside it, the entire time begging me to relent, to hear him, to listen.
But I have no time for his words.
For his tricks.
I am many things—but I am no fool.
Once he is in the cave, I push the stone over the cave wall, trapping him in. “No, listen, child. I am not what you think! Your mother was evil. She did this!”
But I don’t listen. Instead, I envelop the cave with all that is left within me, innately knowing it will keep him bound. Maybe not forever, but long enough.
Long enough for me to find my other sisters.
Epilogue
Remedy: 4 Months Later
After I bind Ares, there isn’t much left for us in Ketchikan. The cottage had nearly been destroyed in his rage, but fortunately, everyone had exited safely. The last thing we do before leaving town, is stop and see Sadie one last time.
Everything from before was gone. Now that I know what I truly am, nothing will ever be the same.
In wolf form, I watch Sadie from the tree line. She is on the back balcony of her apartment. Her hair down and a smile on her face. My heart beats hard as I realize she isn’t alone.
A man joins her on the balcony. He wears a pair of blue jeans and a flannel shirt. He has soft brown hair and a face that is easy on the eyes. My senses are keen as I observe him. Sadie blushes when he looks at her. He leans in close and tucks a strand of hair behind her ears. She looks shy, but happy.
Peaceful.
“Thanks again, Jim, for coming to fix the sink,” she says.
“Anything, for you, Sadie.”
And then he steps closer and he kisses her. And I know, in that, moment, that Sadie is going to be okay.
I run with my wolves out of Ketchikan, holding the memory of my oldest friend close to my heart.
*
The air is hot, the sun beating down our backs as we run. The heat of the California desert is relentless. The fires in Southern California were so intense the land begged for mercy. We ran as a pack: Callum, River, East, and me. I needed to calm the fire scorching the Earth.
Now, we are spent, ready to shift to human form and sleep for days. The men were amazed as I did what I could for the wildfires. I stand at a distance, doing my part. Before we parted ways, Harlow taught me how she works to bind the sea when a hurricane strikes, when a storm billows. She does what she can from the ocean, and now I do what I can from a hillside or a mountaintop.
Knowing a hotel is near; we shift before we enter the city limits. As I come into my human form, I roll my shoulders, exhaustion covering me. I press my hand to my belly, wondering how long I will be able to do this. I’m showing now, the pregnancy undoubtedly real. When I went to the doctors, they wanted me to stay for testing, saying that while my baby’s heart was four-chambered, like all humans, something wasn’t normal.
When I asked what not normal meant, the doctor explained that while it makes no sense, my child’s blood was a blood type they had never seen before. He insisted intensive testing was needed. I thanked him and made a second appointment, knowing as I walked away from the office that I would never return.
My child didn’t have human blood because he is part wolf.
I remember the grin on my face as I realized how fucking amazing that was.
My baby is a wolf-boy and I am a wolf-mama. If there was anything more badass in this world, I’d like someone to tell me.
And just like that, any fear I carried about being a mother was gone. This peace thing is no joke.
“That was freaking intense,” I say, coming down from the exhilaration of putting out the fires. While I don’t want to begrudge my gift, I’m still, at times, overwhelmed by it. I hate knowing I can’t be at all places at once, that as a human I am limited in what I can do. If my father is a Greek god, why can’t I be everywhere at once?
Harlow doesn’t have the answer either. But since we have different fathers we think it must be linked to who our mother is.
“You were amazing out there,” East says, coming up behind me, and wrapping an arm around my waist. “It was hot.”
“Literally,” Cal says.
“Too soon,” River adds, frowning. “People died in that fire.”
I swallow, reaching for River’s hand. It’s true—people were lost. It’s impossible to save everyone, even with special abilities. Nothing is perfect in this world.
We check into a motel, having nothing but the clothes on our backs and the shoes on our feet and cellphones in our pockets. The downside and the upside of moving as a wolf pack is that we travel light. “Someone is going to need to find a Target and get me some clean clothes,” I say as Cal unlocks the motel door.
“I’ll go and find some food while I’m at it,” East offers.
“Thanks, babe,” I say, and then I kiss him softly. “I’ll be sure to thank you properly later.”
*
I’m just stepping out of the shower as East returns with pizza and clothes.
“It smells so good,” I groan, wrapping a towel around myself as I walk into the room with two queen-size beds. River has the TV remote in his hand but lets it drop, patting the bed beside him, asking me to join him.
“I got your favorite, cheese and black olives,” East says as he opens a beer.
“Anyone hear from the boat recently?” I ask, opening the box of pizza and taking a slice before getting in bed beside River. Our feet are outstretched, and he immediately runs a hand under my towel. I giggle as he moves his hand between my legs, ignoring my question entirely.
“I haven’t,” Cal says, reaching for the phone charger East bought for us and then plugging in his phone. “But last week, didn’t Harlow say they were headed toward the Gulf coast?” He pulls off his shirt and slips out of his jeans. I think he’s going to head toward the bathroom to shower, but instead, he comes on the other side of the bed, beside me. His mouth is on my neck in seconds and a smile on my lips.
“Yeah,” I say, setting down my pizza. There’s no way I can eat if the guys are ready to play. “I just wonder if they are any closer.”