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Well. This is it then. This is the only move he can make. The only way to take all the pieces off the board. The only way to make sure everyone is safe. No one said all the right choices was easy. And yet, somehow, it was the easiest decision Scott ever made.
“Take me,” he stated. Let the others go.” God, was that his voice? Wavering and unsure? His hands curled into his palms. He had to steady it. Get a grip. He had to save Eli. It was all about saving Eli. Saving everyone. If everyone was safe…it would all be worth it. He’d done everything he needed to do.
“All the lives here belong to me.” The Nogitsune’s voice scraped down Scott’s spine, sending the hairs up on his arms. But still he pressed on, moved forward. That was all there was to life, wasn’t it? Moving forward? It’d been so difficult before but now…now, nothing else in the world was easier.
“All you need is me,” Scott said, re-enforcing his words with borrowed confidence.
“Scott don’t do this.” Ah, Derek. Still trying to find a way to take all the pain and punishment. Habits die hard, huh? Or maybe that was his parental instincts kicking in. If anyone was going to trade themselves for Eli, it would be his father, wouldn’t it? Derek had lost so much… Scott hoped he’d understand his choice one day. Maybe.
Scott rolled his shoulders back, strengthened his stance, steeled his bones. They needed to remember him like this. Strong, sure, stable. Their Alpha. Their friend. “Allison kills me, I die in her arms, the same way that she died in mine.” He didn’t mean to think of Stiles at this moment but he did. Because he’d be proud Scott figured it out, if only for a second, before his anger would come roaring to life. And he’d come up with another plan. Because Stiles was quick like that, finding the patterns and the loopholes. But that’s not how it’s supposed to work. This was a two-person game. And Scott had to keep it that way. “That’s the move that wins the game, isn’t it?”
“I’ve already won.”
“You lose!” It burst out of him in an angry snarl. Tiny pinpricks of pain pulse in his palms as his claws flickered and flashed beneath his surging anger. He strained to keep his fangs from ripping through his gums, elongating in his jaws. He couldn’t give the Nogitsune more power, more strength. “Until I’m off the board! And I’m still standing.” He swallowed and shifted his weight, grounding himself. “And I’m still the alpha.”
“An arrow to the heart to save everyone else?” A strange lilt floated his growling, gravely question along. Amusement? Amazement? Skepticism? Were trickster spirits able to feel anything other than its own satisfied glee? Scott’s heart thudded as the Nogitsune’s bandaged head whipped around to Eli. A whisper of a breath and—“All the other players go free.”
His stomach pitched and his hands trembled, and he pushed down the thick, sour threatening to rush up his throat. I can do this. I have to do this. Counting to three, Scott turned, and his heart broke all over again. The jagged splinters poked between his ribs and rubbed and irritated his lungs, aching his chest with every pull of his breath. The way her face cracked open, her mouth dropped in a silent refusal, the tears carving tracks down her cheeks as her eyes flitted back and forth from the bow in her hand to his face, over and over again. As if daring herself to wake up from a dream. Or a nightmare. Or this reality.
“No.” The word squeezed out between her trembling lips, riding the wafting smoke surrounding them. Scott didn’t dare take his eyes off her. If this was all he had left, seeing this look on her face, seeing her, he’d see it through the end. He had to. “No I can’t. I c—I can’t—I cannot…. No.”
Scott’s ears twitched at Eli’s groan behind him. Any longer and al this wouldn’t be worth it. Derek would lose someone else, again. He couldn’t let Derek go through that. Couldn’t let anyone else he cared about go through more pain and suffering because of him. It had to be done this way. It had to. And he locked eyes with Allison, holding her, telling her this. Because she had to know. She had to do it. She had to.
“Kill him, Allison,” the Nogitsune growled, “and I win the game.”
Kill me. And this will all be over. All of it.
“Allison please.” Her eyes snapped back to him and he saw her as she once was, the fresh faced girl on the first day of the new semester, smiling that shy smile when she took the pen he held out to her. The girl full of possibilities. The girl with hope. The girl with a future. The girl who still had one. “Don’t make me watch my friends and my family die.” He couldn’t live with that. But this…this he could live with. Or not. That was the point, after all.
If you ever loved me…
She shook her head, a motion so small he probably wouldn’t have caught it if he didn’t have such a strong focus on her. And he nodded. This had to be done. He did everything he could do. Everything he needed to do. It would be okay. He would be okay. It was okay.
She breathed.
He breathed.
Her arrow slid out of its quiver in a smooth, graceful motion, unsheathing with a metallic hum.
She breathed.
He breathed.
He squared his shoulders. The lapels of his jacket inched open, just a little, clearing the expanse of his chest.
She breathed.
He breathed.
The leather of her gloves creaked as she drew back the bow in one, powerful pull, and held it. Held him. Held them both still. So still.
“Game…is…mine. Kill him!” The Nogitsune roared.
Scott’s breath shook. His body shook. His world trembled. He lifted his chin. Fear spiked in the put of his stomach.
This is the only way.
He looked at her.
Allison—
The moonlight bounced off the arrowhead, glittering and gleaming as if dipped in precious diamonds. They hit their mark, sinking deep into his chest, ripping past skin, and muscle, and bone and landed tried and true. He bent forward, fear and uncertainty shooting out of him in one pained grunt. His heart beat hard, lurched, once, and spasmed painfully in his chest. Volume dropped, leaving behind only a high pitched ring.
She breathed.
He tried.
She drew another arrow and let this one fly. His teeth clenched. He jerked backwards, muscles fluttering, recoiling against the new spike of pain in his chest. He stood straight again. Looked at her. Held her. Took a step forward.
She breathed.
He held his breath.
Another arrow in. A perfect three-fold shot. Red dotted and bloomed on his shirt, spreading and unfurling its petals. He staggered backwards, legs giving out as all his blood and strength rushed upwards.
The woods tilted and the ground rushed up to meet him. Some sort of perseverance kicked in as he had the strength to throw out his arm and cushion his fall, the other going up to his chest to…what? Check if the arrows did land? Check if his heart still beat? Check to see if he still belonged to this earthly plane? Yes, yes, and yes.
He smelled her before he felt her. That overwhelming yet satiating scent of her: sweet and floral, as if flowers grew around her bones and budded between her teeth. Her fingers gripped him, held him, steadied him, even as his head rocked in the waves and his body floated. His skin stretched and fluttered, stitched and ripped working to heal him and expel the arrows, resisting the foreign bodies lodged inside.
“The wolves howl to signal their position the rest of the pack.” Her cheek brushed against his and her hair tickled his face and he leaned against her, resting upon his shield. “Tell me, Scott McCall,” the Nogitsune all but coughed out, “what is the sound of the wolf who is ready to die?”
“I’d tell you,” he said, chest heaving, arrows creaking and groaning, “but I’m not ready to die.
Flashing in dancing reds and twirling golds, fire erupted on the fletching of the arrows sticking out of him. As they burned and lowered, dripping sparks and embers, the red blossom on his chest shrank. Warmth spread across the surface of the once-stained, white fabric, licking and brushing against his skin. And only when the flame died out did he get to his feet, shaky but solid, and stared the Nogitsune down, its gaping maw showcasing a shiny row of jagged teeth and disbelief.
“Fox Fire,” the Nogitsune growled.
Fire burst around him, crackling and spinning in the air. Scott closed his eyes, sensitive to the light, and allowed the flames to lick up his legs, wrap around his waist, curl up his arms and torso, and leap off his head, pulling upwards into a tight rope, the large fox form rising above him. It stretched upwards, crawling higher, and spun off. And when the light died down, Scott turned to Hikari who stared back at him with wide eyes. She turned her head one way and then to the other, lower lip trembling.
“It…it wasn’t me,” she managed a whisper.
A small shift let his eyes land on Liam, whose gaze had moved off him and to the side. Somewhere behind him. He turned. Allison looked pat him too, her hand gripped his shoulder holding him tight. He turned the other way and all his breath sucked in his throat.
Walking with a strong stride, head held high, the kitsune shrouding her with a regal elegance, Kira stepped through the thick smoke, one hand on the large belt buckle wrapped around her waist, moonlight caught in its teeth.
“I learned some new tricks,” Kira said, her steely-eyed gaze on the Nogitsune. It huffed and grunted up on the altar, teeth gnashing. With a flourish, Kira drew her sword. It sliced through the air, thrumming and whistling with every twist and turn until she rested in a stance, muscles tense, two fingers extended out towards the Nogitsune. “…Still want to play?”