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Chapter Twenty-Four

M arric didn’t want to get out of bed. He wasn’t sure he could stand up.

He hurt everywhere, especially his legs and back.

He lay under the covers and shut his eyes, trying to ignore the yelling.

He could tell it came from outside. He was accustomed to the sounds of the farm.

Tractors running and animal noises were common. But he’d rarely heard people yelling.

His mind played tricks on him, and he went back in time before the sickness started. He thought it was Emery who yelled at Dad. Marric didn’t want to become a part of the argument, so he kept his eyes shut and burrowed into the mattress.

But then the yelling grew in volume and participants.

In his foggy, fevered brain, he thought his dad was yelling at Iven, and maybe Iven yelled back.

But that made little sense because Iven wouldn’t yell.

He was more of a quiet stewer who internalized everything.

He wouldn’t raise his voice for any reason.

Marric sighed and sat up in bed. He needed to recover from the dizziness before standing, so he sat there collecting himself.

If it wasn’t for Zinnie’s herbs, he wouldn’t be well enough to even be conscious. He could still feel the curse working through his body. It would take over completely soon, but not before he found out what the hell was going on.

He made his way to his bedroom window. It faced the farmyard, giving him a bird’s eye view of everything, including over fifty Timeston pack members standing on the borders of the wards.

Riley and Griffin were in the yard, just on the other side of a dome that covered the house and part of the yard.

More pack members had to be on the back side of the barns, out of Marric’s line of sight.

There could be even more people gathered along the wards at the front of the house as well.

Riley said something to Griffin. but Marric couldn’t hear it.

Marric sighed and shook his head. What the hell was going on?

Marric grabbed the blanket from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around himself before leaving the room. He headed down the stairs.

The front door was open and there was Maggie standing on the porch with his grandfather’s old shotgun and an old box of shells sitting on the railing as if she intended to pluck the wolves off one by one.

He peeked around the corner of the living room and saw Emery holding Regan. Marric had never seen them more scared.

Regan saw Marric first and ran to him. “Papa.”

Marric held him close.

Just then Zinnie came into the room carrying a basket of plants with a determination strong enough to deter even her toughest opposer. She stopped mid-stride when she saw him. “You should be in bed.”

“What’s happening? Why is the pack outside?”

Marric’s brain was fuzzy. He just couldn’t process what was going on.

“Timeston’s wolves and witches are working together. Just like Iven said they were.” That was all she said about it, as if it was enough information for Marric to fill in the rest. But Marric’s mind worked slowly.

She turned to Emery and then to Regan. “Come on. You two are going to help me even the playing field.”

“How?” Emery wiped her eyes and followed behind Zinnie. They headed toward the kitchen.

“It seems the wolves wanted a curse. Well, we’re going to give them one.”

“I’m a wolf, so don’t curse me again, please.” Emery didn’t seem too worried.

“I would also appreciate it if you didn’t double down on my curses.” Marric pulled Regan into the kitchen. He sat at the table. He tried to put a chair close to him, so Regan had his own seat, but Regan didn’t let go of him. “Papa said I can’t hurt anyone ever again. No more curses.”

Zinnie closed the distance, patting Regan’s cheek. “Wolf’s bane isn’t a curse. It will just feel like one. And you don’t have to do anything.”

Marric widened his eyes. He shook his head. He wanted to protest the killing of his pack, but didn’t want to say anything in front of Regan.

Emery seemed to understand, but she just nodded. “We have to, Marric. The pack is trying to overthrow the dynasty.”

Marric sucked in a breath. “That’s what the curse is about?”

“The alpha wouldn’t condone a voting system, so they took matters into their own hands,” Zinnie explained as she grabbed the biggest stew pot she could find and put it on the front stove burner.

Marric didn’t remember even seeing that big of a pot before. His mother had probably been the last to use it.

“They aren’t entirely wrong.” Marric hated to agree with a bunch of murderous people, but he would prefer a voting system, too.

Her gaze snapped to him. “They hurt your family rather than affect change. For that, they will pay.”

Emery nodded. “They also aligned themselves with shitty people.”

“Language, Emery.” Scolding her came automatic. He’d taken on more of a parental role since their mother and Tory died.

Emery rolled her eyes. “We’re literally about to die and you’re worried about me cursing. Since my time is limited, I deserve to say whatever I want.”

She had a point, but Marric wouldn’t let her know just how right he thought she was. “No more talk about dying. It won’t happen.”

“Great. Very optimistic of you. Try telling that to Riley, Griffin, and Maggie, who are doing everything they can to keep our pack from killing us.” Emery folded her arms over her chest.

“Do they want Dad?” Did they think he was here?

Marric knew his dad had gone with Iven. They intended to put an end to the curse.

Marric just wished they would hurry. He needed to be well again to help when the fighting started.

And it would start. Of that, he had no doubt.

He’d be much more effective if he was at his best.

“Dad is fighting the witches with Iven and Cass. The last time I heard they were surrounded.”

“We won’t worry about Iven right now. We’re going to worry about getting out of this mess alive.” Zinnie met his gaze. “And we will all make it out alive. Iven included. Got it?”

Marric nodded, but fear took hold for the first time since making his way down the stairs. “Iven is in danger?”

Zinnie met his gaze. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. He could see how dire Iven’s situation was in her expression.

“The pack doesn’t want Dad. But they do want to hurt him. That’s why the cursed us.” No doubt they’ve already written him off for dead. And then it registered what Emery was really saying.

“They came here to kill me.” He was the oldest of Kinnison Ransome’s children, who were still alive.

And he’d just bonded with his mate. They cursed him in an extra special way.

It included killing him after he bonded with someone.

It had probably been designed so he wouldn’t be able to give Kinnison an heir.

They might have done the same thing to Emery too, but she was too young to think about mates and bonding.

And while the person who made the curse hadn’t thought through every scenario, they had made sure Marric would meet his end sooner rather than later.

Dad didn’t deserve to have his entire family wiped out.

He didn’t deserve that type of pain. He was a good alpha, all things considered.

He had his bad points, but he was a strong leader who cared about the pack and Timeston.

The pack and coven members had showed up at their door asking Dad to fix their problems. And all the time his strength had kept other bigger packs from overtaking them.

Emery drew her eyebrows together. “What are you thinking?”

Marric wasn’t aware he was thinking of anything important until she asked the questions.

“They tried to kill us.” He might have been stating the obvious, but he still couldn’t wrap his head around the cruelty of it.

Emery hung her head, and her chin wobbled. “Most of the pack. Miss Marie. And even Alexis.” Alexis was a good friend of Emery’s. They had stayed the night at each other’s houses before Emery had gotten sick.

“Marie was the one who delivered the curse.” Marric was sure it was when Dad had gotten a cut on his arm when he’d been mending a break in the fence. Cuts were common occurrences on a farm, even for wolf shifters, but that cut had been deeper than most, which was why they’d called Miss Marie.

Emery wiped her eyes. “How can they hurt us like that?”

Marric opened his free arm, inviting Emery into their little circle.

She came over, sitting in the chair Regan had refused, and leaned into him.

“We won’t let them win.”

“Well, we can’t let Dad win, either. The gods help us all if you get pregnant.” Emery buried her face against his chest and chuckled when he poked her in the side.

“Papa is a boy. Boys don’t have babies.” Regan drew his eyebrows together. “Can you?”

Marric wished he could. He’d have Iven’s babies in a heartbeat. “You’re my son. So I guess I can.”

“But I’m not a baby.” Regan’s big, brown eyes were wide with exasperation. But then he leaned against Marric and took his hand. “Riley said he’d be my brother, and he said he’d make Griffin be my brother too.”

“Good. Then we don’t have to talk about adding more of you.” The conversation had distracted Emery and Regan long enough to take their mind off what was happening outside.

The shouting got louder and sounded closer.

Emery jumped up and went to the window, moving the curtain back just enough to peek outside. “They broke through the wards.”

He forgot his fear long enough for some relief, even if only for a few minutes, but her words brought it back tenfold.

Marric watched Zinnie stir the pot. “Get away from the window, Em.”

Emery didn’t move and Marric didn’t push it.

“What’s the plan with that stuff?”

She didn’t take her focus off the pot. “When we add magic to the pot, the contents inside will turn to gas. I need to figure out a way to trap the gas and then release it outside the dome.”

“Will it kill them?” As hurt as Marric was by his pack, he didn’t want them to die.

“No. But they’ll wish for death.”

“Maybe it’s not the gas we have to trap.” Iven had said once that Riley could make people sleep or freeze. They could use that but only if he could do it to enough people.

The enemy outnumbered and surrounded them. The only way to even things up was to get enough people to breathe in Zinnie’s potion.