Chapter 32
32 Chapter 32 A Reckoning of
Stones
Faye’s POV
I threw myself sideways just as Zeke’s claws swept toward me.
The razor-sharp tips caught my shoulder instead of my heart, tearing through skin and muscle. Fire shot down my arm, but I kept moving. My fingers found purchase on a chunk of broken stone, and I launched it with everything I had left.
The rock caught Zeke square in the forearm as he raised it for another strike. He snarled, stumbling backward, but the fury in his eyes only intensified. He recovered quickly, too quickly, and I knew my luck had
run out.
Then something whistled through the air behind me.
A second stone cracked against Zeke’s temple, snapping his head to the side. He wheeled around, dazed, searching for the source. That’s when I saw him
– the small boy I’d just finished healing, his young face twisted with rage, already reaching for another projectile.
The others moved like a pack.
More rocks flew from every direction. One struck Zeke’s ribs with a hollow thud. Another caught his knee, making him stagger. He spun in circles, trying to track his attackers, but they surrounded him now.
The children I had healed were everywhere, armed with stones ranging from pebbles to chunks the size of their small fists. They hurled them with a ferocity that made my breath catch. These weren’t random throws – each strike was deliberate, calculated, years of pain channeled into every impact.
Blood began to stream from Zeke’s split lip where a particularly sharp stone had found its mark. He cursed and swatted at the air, but for every rock he dodged, two more found their target.
His eyes fixed on a girl standing near the cave wall.
She couldn’t have been more than ten, and she froze like a rabbit caught in headlights.
Zeke lunged toward her with a roar of frustration, but he never made it halfway.
Kim came out of nowhere, tackling Zeke with the full weight of his body. They hit the ground hard, the impact echoing off the stone walls. Despite his youth, Kim moved with surprising strength, pinning Zeke’s arms before the man could fight back.
Then the Alpha-blooded boy stepped forward.
I’d barely noticed him before – quiet, watchful, standing in the shadows. But now his eyes burned with something primal and ancient. He approached Zeke’s prone form with the patience of a predator, hefting a stone the size of both his hands.
He straddled Zeke’s chest and raised the rock high.
The first blow landed with a sickening crack.
Zeke’s body convulsed beneath him, but the boy didn’t stop. The second strike split scalp and bone. Blood sprayed across the boy’s face, painting him crimson, but his expression never changed.
Three times. Four. Five.
Each impact sent tremors through Zeke’s body until the twitching stopped altogether. Still the rock rose and fell, methodical as a hammer on an anvil. Zeke’s skull caved inward, and dark blood pooled beneath his
head.
That’s when the others joined in.
They descended on Zeke’s lifeless form like a swarm, small fists and jagged stones raining down on his body. Some of them screamed. Others wept openly. But none of them hesitated.
Bones cracked under the assault. Flesh tore and split. What had once been Beta Nick’s arrogant son became an unrecognizable mass of blood and pulverized
tissue.
I stood frozen, unable to look away from the carnage.
These children had lived through horrors I could barely imagine. They’d been broken, tortured, left to die in this underground hell. But they weren’t victims anymore. They were survivors taking back their power in the most brutal way possible.
Eventually, the violence subsided. The Alpha-blooded
boy climbed off what remained of Zeke, his small
hands stained red to the wrists. Kim stood beside him, chest heaving, knuckles raw and bleeding.
“We should move,” Kim said calmly, as if he’d just finished a routine chore.
I nodded and struggled to my feet, legs shaking beneath me. In the distance, I could still hear the clash of metal on metal, the sounds of Hardy’s ongoing
battle.
“He’s still fighting,” I said, turning to face the group of children watching me expectantly. “Head toward that passage. Find the exit and wait for us there. I have to get him p>
They stared at me in silence. Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn.net
“Go! What are you waiting for p>
“We’re not leaving,” the Alpha-blooded boy said firmly.
“Come with us p>
“I can’t abandon my husband p>
Something shifted in their expressions at those words.
“Then we fight,” Kim declared without hesitation. “We know how to fight. You saved us. Now it’s our turn p>
The determination in their young faces was unmistakable. I nodded slowly.
“Grab whatever you can carry. We’re going to help
him p>
No questions. No arguments. They bent down as one, collecting the heaviest, sharpest stones they could find. I retrieved Zeke’s sword and dagger from his mangled corpse, testing their weight in my hands.
Then we moved.
The narrow corridor stretched ahead of us, damp and treacherous, but we navigated it quickly. The only sounds were our footsteps and the occasional clatter of a dropped stone being hastily retrieved.
The clash of weapons grew louder with each step.
We emerged into a larger chamber lit by flickering torches and the strange glow of symbols carved into the walls. At the center stood Hardy, his blade cutting through another attacker’s throat in one fluid motion.
The man collapsed in a spray of arterial blood.
But my relief turned to ice when I saw the truth.
Hardy’s left arm hung awkwardly at his side, dark blood seeping from two parallel gashes. The wounds had blackened edges – poison. His breathing came in sharp bursts, and though he still moved with lethal grace, each strike seemed to cost him more.
My heart clenched with fear.
“He’s poisoned,” I whispered, then louder to the children behind me. “His wounds are infected with something. Go now. Take the passage and wait for us. Don’t argue p>
A stone flew past my ear before I could finish, striking one of Hardy’s remaining opponents in the face. Bone crunched audibly, and the man staggered backward, clutching his broken nose.
Hardy seized the moment.
He pivoted smoothly, driving his blade between another attacker’s ribs, then spinning low to disembowel a third. A fourth man lunged with twin
daggers, but Hardy twisted away, grabbed him by the throat, and slammed him down so hard the stone floor
cracked.
Silence fell over the chamber.
I approached Hardy carefully, noting how his muscles remained coiled despite his exhaustion. When I pressed my palm against his chest, he didn’t flinch.
Energy flowed from my hand into his body, seeking out the toxin eating away at his strength. The poison burned through his bloodstream like acid, but it hadn’t taken deep root yet. I chased it down, drew it out, sealed the torn flesh until only faint scars remained.
“You didn’t leave,” he observed.
“Don’t talk. I’m healing you.” The words came out harsher than intended, and guilt twisted in my chest. After everything he’d done for me, how could I speak to him like that? I stepped back, lowering my eyes. “Besides, how could I ever abandon my husband p>
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “Good p>
He looked past me at the blood-spattered children still
clutching their makeshift weapons. “We need to leave.
Now p>
Morh Lucia
Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.