Page 171 of Awakened

Her words break me. I crumple into my mother’s arms, and despite how frail she is, despite how badly she shakes, she wraps her arms around me and holds me close.

One last time.

“I don’t want to leave you,” I cry between choked sobs.

“You won’t. Not forever. I have so many things I wish I could explain to you. So many answers to questions I know you must have.” She pulls back until she can look me in the eyes.

“Forgive me for not taking these last moments to answer your questions, Idril. You may not understand now, but one day, when you hold your own child in your arms, you will. You’ll understand why I choose to spend my last moments loving you, confident enough to know you’ll figure out the rest without my aid.”

I can barely see through my tears. Can barely breathe through the gasping sobs. I fall back into my mother’s arms and hold her tight.

Until the world explodes into chaos around us.

The wet, angry snarls of something monstrous reach me first. They’re guttural and sharp, more beast than man. Pulling back from my mother’s embrace, I turn right as the sounds of the snarling beast get too close to ignore. And not a moment too soon.

The first Severed hurls down the stairs with the speed of a missile. At first it’s just a blur of limbs that crashes into a heap on the floor. For a moment it doesn’t move, staying completely still for long enough that I start to think the fall may have killed it.

Caelan stands still as stone, poised to attack. He keeps his eyes trained on the Severed. He tenses, the corded strength in his forearms coiling tight as he readjusts his grip on his daggers.

Oh.

Oh.

I realize what’s happening right as the Severed gives up playing dead. Like the world’s most terrible Jack in the Box, it springs to its feet, ready to attack.

Oh… gods.

I gasp audibly and take a step back from the reanimated corpse less than twenty feet away. It looks nothing like Alexander, and I finally understand what the Bastards mean when they say certain Severed beings are no more than fodder for their army.

I want to look away, but at the same time, I can’t. It’s what nightmares are made of—something I never thought existed in the real world. The corpse is half decayed. Nothing but teeth and rage and grey skin peeling from bone and sinew, exposing muscle and veins beneath.

It shrieks in rage, attention focused on one person—my Mate.

The creature lunges at the same time as Caelan moves, blade flashing in an arc that meets the Severed mid-leap, almost like he anticipated what the creature’s next move would be.

The dagger slices into the Severed's decaying flesh and muscle, sending an arc of blood the color of midnight spraying across the floor.

Soren’s throws out an arm. “Shit. Idril, stay behind me⁠—”

He cuts himself off with a growl that thunders through the basement. He widens his stance and crouches before pulling another dagger from the waistband of his jeans and holding both in a confident, steady grip.

A moment later, I discover the reason for his reaction as an entire wave of Severed pour down the stairs in much the same way as the first.

Their shrill screams fill the air as they flood down the stairs and fill the basement. There are far too many for Caelan to stop them all, despite how hard he fights. They move like insects, climbing and crawling on top of each other, with no regard for anything or anyone around them.

I watch in horror as their ranks continue to grow until I’m fully convinced we’re all going to die. There are too many of them. Way too many for the Bastards to fight fairly.

I never thought I’d be grateful to see Silas. He vaults down the last couple stairs, following close behind the Severed. A heartbeat later, a shotgun cracks. The blast echoes off the stone walls and sends the Severed Caelan’s grappling with—the fourth or fifth he’s brought down—pitching forward.

Black blood explodes from the back of its head. It falls, landing right on top of its dead companion.

Vae turns the corner behind Gav, spouting colorful curses as he wades into the chaos without hesitation. He backs up Caelan immediately, almost like he knew his Packmate needed him before he even made it down the stairs.

I exhale, relieved my Mate is no longer the only one fighting to hold them all back.

It’s clear the Severed are no match for the Bastards, and for a minute I start to believe their greater numbers don’t mean much compared to the Alphas’ skills after all.

Until another dozen or so—faster, less decayed—appear from nowhere, leaping down the stairs with far more agility than the first wave.