Witch in wolf's clothing - Namaari

Chapter 49: Not On My Watch

Noali surges forward, fighting her way through the mass of fur and teeth. She bites and claws, pushing past the rogues that try to block her way. Finally, she reaches Rime’s side just as he collapses to the ground, exhausted and heavily wounded. With a quick shift, I transform back into my human form and drop to my knees beside him. River shifts back, revealing his battered human body. He is barely conscious, his breathing shallow and labored.

I pull him into my arms, trying to shield him from the fight still raging around us. Just then, a rogue lunges toward us, teeth bared, but Wren leaps in front of me, intercepting the attack. She clashes with the rogue, her growls fierce as she drives it back.

I look down at River, horrified by the extent of his injuries. His body is covered in bite wounds, deep gashes that should be healing but aren’t. The edges of the wounds are dark and inflamed, and a sickly greenish color seeps into the surrounding skin. “Dammit,” I mutter, “These bites are laced with poison.”

River moans softly, his eyes fluttering open for a moment. He looks up at me, his gaze clouded with pain. “Namaari, run...” he whispers weakly.

I tighten my grip on him, determination filling me. “Hold on, River. We're not going to leave you behind, we’re getting you out of here.”

Wren suddenly appears next to River, her wolf form shifting back into Willow as she collapses beside her brother. Her eyes are wide with fear, and her voice trembles as she pleads, “Please, River, don’t die. You’re all I have left.”

Emi and Korra step forward, placing themselves protectively in front of me, Willow and River. Their snarls fill the air, low and menacing, as they face the five remaining rogues. Some are injured, but still dangerous.

I stand up, turning to Willow. “Stay with River,” I instruct firmly. Then, I move to stand between Emi and Korra, my gaze fixed on the rogues.

The rogues shift into their human forms, smirking at us. The one in the middle, clearly their leader, sneers, “Look, boys, if we take these pretty ladies back to our camp, we’ll have an orgy tonight.”

Another rogue grins wickedly. “I’d rather keep them all to ourselves. Why share?”

Before I can respond, Kieko and Ebony shift back to human form as well. Kieko swiftly grabs her backpack off the ground, pulling out her knives. With deadly accuracy, she throws one, striking a rogue square in the chest. He drops to the ground, dead.

The leader’s face twists in fury. “Get them!” he roars.

The rogues charge at us. I find myself facing two at once, their eyes burning with anger and desire. I duck under a swinging fist, kicking out at the rogue’s knee and hearing a satisfying crunch as it breaks. He howls in pain, falling to the ground. The second rogue lunges at me, but I sidestep and deliver a sharp elbow to his jaw, sending him staggering back.

Ebony battles another rogue nearby, her movements precise and powerful. She lands a solid punch to the rogue’s stomach, then follows up with a swift uppercut to his chin, knocking him off balance.

Kieko and Willow take on the fourth rogue together. Kieko slashes at him with her knives, her movements quick and agile, while Willow grabs a fallen branch and uses it like a club, striking the rogue hard across the head. He crumples to the ground.

Within moments, the fight is nearly over. Three rogues lie dead at our feet, and the last one, realizing he’s outmatched, turns and runs.

Kieko starts to go after him, but I hold up a hand. “Let it go, Kieko. We need to get River back to the pack grounds.”

She looks at me, breathing heavily, but she nods in agreement. “You’re right. We need to get him help, fast.”

“Shift back into your wolves and see if any of the warriors are still alive,” I instruct. “Your wolves are better at picking up on faint signals.”

Without hesitation, Kieko and Ebony shift back into their wolf forms, their heightened senses on alert as they begin to search the area. Willow stands next to River, her face wet with tears as she watches him struggle to breathe. He’s managed to drag himself against a rock, but every breath is labored, a painful wheeze escaping his lips.

I place a hand on Willow’s shoulder, feeling the tremors of her silent sobs. “Gather our backpacks and tear some clothing into strips so we can bandage his wounds,” I say gently.

Willow nods wordlessly, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand before rushing over to the scattered backpacks. I turn back to River, kneeling beside him to examine his injuries more closely. River’s breaths are shallow, and his skin is clammy, but his eyes meet mine with a faint, pained smile.

“Please,” he rasps, his voice barely above a whisper, “take care of Willow for me.”

I shake my head firmly, refusing to let his words sink in. “Sorry to break up your sentimental goodbye, but you’re not going anywhere. You’ll take care of her yourself. You’re not dying today, not on my watch.”

I hold his gaze, letting the strength of my conviction show. Then, I press my hand gently but firmly over a large bite wound on his arm. River cries out in pain, his body tensing, but I don’t waver. Closing my eyes, I focus my energy, whispering a healing spell under my breath. The words are soft, almost a hum, but they carry power, weaving through the air and into River’s body.

As the spell flows through him, I feel a warmth beneath my hand, a gentle glow spreading outward from where I touch. River’s breathing, though still ragged, begins to steady, and the darkness around his wounds starts to recede, replaced by a faint light.

As I finish the spell, I open my eyes and see River staring directly at me. His gaze is wide with shock and confusion as he stammers, "How...?"

I keep my eyes on him, steady and calm, but I can see the realization dawning in his eyes. "You're a witch?" he whispers, the disbelief clear in his voice.

I nod slowly, my expression serious. “Please,” I whisper back, placing my hand on another large wound on his chest. “Don’t tell the others, especially not the triplets. I want to tell them myself when the time is right.”

River nods, still processing the information, but there's a hint of trust in his eyes. I murmur the healing spell again, and this time the wound on his chest begins to close, the worst of it knitting back together. The damage caused by the poison won’t fully heal, but at least the life-threatening injuries are under control.

Willow comes running over with strips of fabric in her hands, and I immediately remove my hands from River’s body. Together, we begin to bind the remaining wounds with the cloth, doing our best to stop any further blood loss. The fabric is makeshift, but it’s better than nothing. We also help him into his sweater to keep him warm and a pair of shorts Willow had brought along, just in case.

Once we’ve done everything we can, I look at Willow and say, “Shift into your wolf, Wills. I’m going to lay your brother on you, and we’ll head back as quickly as possible. We can take turns carrying him if needed.”

Willow nods, her expression determined. She shifts into her wolf form, Wren, and crouches down to make it easier for me to lift River onto her back. Carefully, I position him so that he’s secure, his arms hanging over either side of her.

Meanwhile, Emi and Korra join us, shaking their heads sadly. No survivors.

I let out a sigh, the weight of the loss heavy on my chest. We don’t have time to grieve now; we need to get River back to safety. I shift into Noali, feeling the familiar surge of power as I take on my wolf form.

Emi and Korra pick up the backpacks with their mouths, securing them tightly. Noali moves to Wren’s side, staying close to ensure River stays on her back and to offer support if she stumbles. Together, we start the long journey back, the paws of our wolves pounding against the rough terrain as we race against time.

Hours pass as we run, the path home stretching out before us. We push ourselves hard, knowing that every second counts. Noali is now carrying River on her back, her strides steady but noticeably heavier with the added weight. I glance at Emi and Korra ahead of us, their movements less fluid than before.

Noali's voice echoes in my mind, filled with concern. "They're injured, too. They're exhausted. And I think Wren is as well."

I know she's right. I can see it in the way they move—their energy is fading, and they’re pushing themselves beyond their limits.

"I know," I respond, feeling a knot of worry tighten in my chest. "The sooner we get out of these mountains, the better. They all need medical attention. We need it, too, Noali. I can feel your exhaustion."

Noali's determination pulses through our shared connection. "I’ll survive. I'm more worried about you when we shift back to human form. The poison on their claws or fangs is slowing down our healing."

I sigh, frustration seeping into my thoughts. "If it wasn’t for the dark magic involved, I could have healed all of us by now. But my powers are drained—just healing those two wounds on River took nearly everything out of me."

"Don’t blame yourself, Namaari," Noali reassures me, her voice firm yet gentle. "We’ll get through this. All of us."

We press on, our pace relentless despite our fatigue. Another hour passes, each minute feeling like an eternity. The rough terrain and biting cold seem endless. But then, suddenly, a sound reaches my ears—howling in the distance. It's distinct, familiar, and fills me with a rush of hope.

"Mates!" Noali exclaims in my mind, her ears perking up.

The recognition hits me instantly. "Goddess, yes," I reply, a wave of relief washing over me. "Even if they’re pissed, at least I know we’ll all make it back safely and in time."

I can sense them now, their presence getting closer, and despite the fatigue weighing down my body, a new sense of strength surges through me.