Brax POV
“Veronica!” Brax shouted, shaking her gently. “s**t—we need a witch. Now.”
He scooped her into his arms and bolted out of the packhouse, heart pounding, adrenaline crashing through him. If anything happened to her—he would never forgive himself. His unit followed him out.
“Seraphina!” he shouted, his voice echoing over the now quiet battlefield. Everyone had stopped fighting as members of Alaric’s pack clutched their chests—no doubt feeling the loss of their Alpha.
Seraphina rushed towards them, her eyes on Veronica.
“What happened?” she asked, waving her hand over Veronica, magically checking for injuries.
“She—she passed out when we got to her—I—” Brax rasped.
“I assume you killed Alaric?” Seraphina asked, eyes locked on Veronica.
“No, she did.” He huffed a dry laugh.
