Greykin Valley

| 49 | The Last Option

"But they don't know...what I am, do they?"

"I don't know. They saw you in your demon form, not your wolf one. But you're my mate, and you do smell like a wolf walker. They found the amulet on you, and I'm sure it took Kane no time at all to piece everything together."

Jackson sighed hopelessly. "So...we're all just...gonna sit around and wait for them to do to the rest of us what they did to Bly?" he asked sadly, and the anxiety in his voice was as clear as it was in his eyes.

Damon huffed and looked away again. He wasn't just going to lie down and die. There had to be something. He needed to weigh all of his options...not just those which got all his pack out alive. He hated that he had to consider it, but it was his job as their Alpha to save as many of them as he could in a situation like this. But knowing that more of his already tiny pack would be lost made him feel dreadful—it once again made him feel like he wasn't worthy of leading them.

But he couldn't let his leadership anxieties consume him, either. He had to be strong...for Jackson, for his son, and for his pack. It was time to start thinking about sacrifice.

He looked around at his grieving pack, but as his eyes shifted between them, his despair grew heavier. He didn't know that Wesley had fae blood, and if it weren't for the silver collars, then the pack might just have another incredible asset. And it frustrated him that there were demons and fae who were resistant to silver, but evidently, nobody here was such a species.

Damon set his eyes back on Jackson. "I don't know what to do," he admitted quietly. "All I can think is just...charging at the guards and fighting as much as we can, but I don't want to sacrifice anyone."

"I have an idea," Wilson suddenly said.

Anger slithered through Damon's dismay-ensnared body and formed a scowl on his face as he turned his head to look at Jackson's brown-haired friend. "What did—"

"Wait, please," Jackson insisted quietly. "What is it?" he asked, looking at Wilson.

Wilson shuffled closer. "There's no way we can take this pack on by ourselves, especially not with that Amarok out there. We need help, and there's only one way we're gonna get it."

Damon waited, glaring at him.

"If we can get Jackson out—and only Jackson—then he can go and get help. We can all create a distraction, take out the guards, cover Jackson. The second he gets the amulet, he gets the fuck out of here—you know what, no. He doesn't even need the amulet." He looked at Jackson. "You can just get the hell out of this place and go back to Silverlake. Get Lucian or Caedis or anyone."

The pack started moving nearer.

"That could work," Sebastien said, appearing beside Damon. He crouched and looked at him, Jackson, and Wilson. "Jackson gets back to the Venaticus, and they'll send a whole damn army out here to kill all these fuckers."

"I thought wolf walkers were endangered," Wilson scoffed.

"I-it doesn't matter what the Venaticus do; what matters is that they get us out here, right?" Wesley said.

Damon hated to admit that this muto had a point...but he was right. And it was very close to what he was pondering. His pack were going to be putting their lives at risk to get Jackson out; however, it was the only plan which might work. And he trusted his mate to get back to the Venaticus swiftly.

But he was reluctant to let his mate go. He loved Jackson so much, and the thought of him being alone out there terrified him. What if something happened? What if he never made it to Silverlake?