Chapter 70
Chapter 70
-Dorothy-
Soon after the discovery of the Tally’s vulnerability to iron, the entire Bielke Pack got to work preparing
for war. Apparently back in ye olden days, the Bielke had been skilled blacksmiths and one of the old
forges was still standing around.
It had become a dilapidated relic of the past but it was now finding itself back in action and swarming
with a new generation of Bielke members.
I spent the next few days hanging around the forge with Far and Gideon to oversee the creation of
what was to be our new
Bielke shifters scurried around us, hammering and stamping down sheets of iron. I watched, captivated
by the sparks that flew from the heavy hammers and the bustle of the entire operation.
g to me over that short time.
Most of the shifters from my new college had somehow taken a liking to
Maybe it was my new status as Luna or the very apparent bulge in my stomach but they all greeted me
kindly and welcomed me to help out with some of the smaller tasks. As much as I fought and raged,
nob*dy would allow me to wield the giant hammer though
Meanwhile, Ignatius and I had met with the elder council a few nights before to discuss the plan of
attack. It was decided that the best way forward was to prepare ourselves for defense should the Tally
arrive at our doorstep as well as equip every shifter with an iron weapon of their own.
It was then decided that Ignatius would take a small group of soldiers and attempt to infiltrate the Tally’s
main camp in order to capture or kill whoever it was that was utilizing magic to strengthen their armies.
It was a risky plan and they had no real strategy, only the goal of either taking out the magic-user or
severing their supply to the witch blood they might be using to cast their spells.
Rita, who was also present for the council meeting, agreed that the only way to prevent the coming war
was to weaken the Tally at the source.
After we had explained our theories on the Tally’s magic use, Rita herself had confirmed that she had
had the same. suspicions since the first Not Deer attacked Ignatius and me in the woods.
“It’s cruel,” she had said morosely. They were people once, even if they are mindless monsters now. To
harvest their blood is a cruel act. Especially considering whoever is behind this is a magic-user
themself.
Aside from Rita and surprisingly enough. Ignatius, I had never met another magic-user. Apparently, the
art of wielding magic was a dying tradition.
And while Rita used her knowledge to make medicine and other herbal remedies, and Ignatius wouldn’t
touch the tradition at all anymore, they technically were not witches. They were mages..
The real witches, I was told, were rare and reclusive these days. The only exception is Fae’s own
mother who, while not a witch herself, came from a long line of witches,
Luckily for Far, neither of them was vulnerable to iron but rather broke out in the slightest rash when
they came into
That proved to be a problem, however, when it came to Far donning a plate of armor while in wolf form
only to mmediately shift back and throw it off of her in a hurry, cursing and groaning when the rash
broke out on her skin.
“Of all the things to be allergic to,” she had muttered while Angie spread aloe vera balm over her itchy
back.
“Maybe you’re just allergic to hard work,” Gideon had chipped in only to have a hetty chunk of an iron
shoulder plate thrown an has direction Oranaybe it’s just miody latch syndrome”
HI
The second piece of flying iron caught him square in the face.
After the meeting, Ignatius and I had driven home and used what little energy we had left to crawl into
bed.
We assumed the standard position which involved me lying flat on my back at first and then switching
position every five minutes when the infants in my womb pressed on my bladder.
Ignatius in turn would position himself around me in a more asleep than awake state. Finally, we would
drift off to sleep with me curled up on my side and Ignatius cocooning himself around me with a hand
laid over my stomach.
That night I blew on Ignatius closed eyelids to catch his attention and he opened his eyes to gaze at
me through the dark,
“I don’t want you to leave.” I whispered. Even after all this time, it was still easier to be honest in the
dark. “I’m scared you won’t come back.
I knew that he had to be the one to lead the stealth mission. He would be seen as a weak Alpha if he
wasn’t the one to lead his people through the most dangerous of missions. He would lose their respect
if he were to leave others to do the difficult
work for him.
All the same though, I couldn’t shake the fear that struck me to my core. The fear of losing my mate, of
my children losing their father before they had even met him. And the fear of, should they be caught
and obliterated, what would happen next.
Ignatius drummed his fingers lightly on my stomach, bidding our babies a tender goodnight. He shifted
on his side and brought his face closer to mine, leaning his head down on his elbow. “I don’t want to go
either. But I have to, you know that.”
“I know.” I wasn’t sure why I was whispering but it felt like a necessity. “I just don’t want to lose you.” It
felt as though if I were to speak the words too loudly or too confidently, death itself would hear them
and take them as a challenge.
Ignatius reached over to tuck a loose tendril of hair behind my car as we gazed at each other.
Moonlight shone in through the open window and the slightest breeze danced over our skin that was
bathed in the same blue hue as the night we tumbled out into the garden.
“You’re not going to lose me, Dorothy. I promise I’ll come back to you.
“How can you be sure of that? You saw that shifter today. They have a whole army of people just like
him. And Angie’s experience with the attack on the border proves that no one is safe.” I put a hand to
my stomach. “Not even children.”
“Don’t think like that. Ignatius placed his cool hand over my own. “We have a plan, and we know their
weaknesses. We’re not as vulnerable as they might think.”
He wiped a tear from my eye with his thumb. It had pooled on my eyelashes without me even being
aware that I was crying.
“And if something does happen to me, which it won’t, there are people here who would lay down their
own lives to protect you. But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that
“I know you’re scared, Dorothy. I’m scared too. But we have to try, it’s all we can do. I’m sorry that you
got caught up in all of this. If I could go back in time and do it all over again I wouldn’t change a thing.
As dire as our situation was, and as terrified as I felt, my words were true. Even if I were to die in the
coming battle, it would have all been worth it for the life we had built together.
His k*ss was soft and gentle, a bittersweet moment of tenderness before the storm ahead.
A few days after that and we were finally ready, Ignatius rallied ten shifters recommended by Angie to
accompany him on the mission to infiltrate the Tally Pack. He had prepared himself that morning while I
watched from the bed, tearful and afraid for his safety.
Downstairs, Angie was waiting for us outside. Ignatius had asked both her and Rita to stay close and
keep an eye on his mate until he got back
Angie looked just as tense and concerned as I felt and even Rita seemed anxious. Her feeble smile
when I padded quietly down the stairs was all the proof I needed of just how dangerous this expedition
really was.
1.59 FM,
Angie folded her arms and looked Ignatius up and down. He was wearing exactly what he always wore,
black jeans, old does, and a black shirt with an additional backpack slung over his shoulder.
“You’re going like that?”
“It’s not a f u cking camping trip Angela.”
Their banter was affectionate albeit strained. Neither wanted to acknowledge the uncharted territory we
were all about to fling ourselves into headfirst.
Angie sighed. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you! You need a good tracker on your
team.”
“I’m a decent enough tracker, Ignatius reassured her and put his arms around me. “And besides, I need
you to take care of this one. If you don’t keep an eye on her she might just take it upon herself to follow
me on her own. I don’t want my mate hiking through the forest by herself.”
“Of course, I wouldn’t do that,” I mumbled, leaning into him and wishing he would never have to let go.
“I’d take Gideon’s
“See? Exactly why I need you to watch over her. Ignatius voice grew serious and he fixed Angie with a
level stare. “Take care of my mate. Please, Angie. You and Rita are the only ones I can trust with
keeping Dorothy safe.”
Angie stared down at the ground and rubbed one dirty sneaker against the calf of her other leg: “You
know that I will. She’ll be safe with me, I’ll protect her. I promise.”
*Thank you.”
They embraced and then Angie excused herself to go scope out the perimeter of the mansion. She
insisted it was for safety purposes but I was pretty sure she just couldn’t bear to see him go, knowing
this might be the last time we ever see him
alive.
All too soon, it was time for my mate to leave. I felt him lift his arms from my shoulders and I heard my
heart break at the same moment. I turned around and clung to him, burying my face in his shirt and
inhaling his comforting scent,
Don’t go. That was what I wanted to say. I wanted to repeat it over and over again until he had no
choice but to stay put so as to save me from a had case of lockjaw, but I knew that wasn’t fair. It had to
be done and Ignatius had to be the one to do it.
“Come back to me,” was what I said instead, whispering against his chest so that the words reached
his heart, folded up tightly, and nestled there. So that he would hear them with every steady beat. So
he would never forget them. “You promised, remember that. Come back to me.”
His arms closed around me and buried his face in my neck. “Always, you know that. I’ll always come
back.”
Ignatius had to pry my arms off of him. He pulled me into one final passionate k*ss, locking lips with my
own that were wet and salted with my tears. He poured every emotion and every promise of return into
that final goodbye.
It was over all too soon and then I was left to watch as he walked out of the door, turning only when he
reached his car. The beaten old Chevy Impala that had carried us through many a long night.
He lifted his hand to wave and then before I knew it before I could map the shape of his outline against
the morning sunlight, he was gone, a retreating cloud of dust on the dry gravel path,