Darkness swallowed Drake after that moment of intense, excruciating pain. He remembered feeling immense pressure on his head and sharp pain mixed in. Felt blood too. It had been coming down the sides of his head and his nose. He thought maybe his eyes too but those might’ve been tears he’d felt. He remembered begging, actually begging his sister, for his life. That was a stain on himself he knew he would never have been able to live down. Fortunately, he was able to think to himself, that didn’t seem to matter anymore. He was dead.

If I'm dead, then why the fuck am I thinking so hard?

It was a fair question, he reasoned. Shouldn’t there be nothing but infinite darkness and nothing else? Shouldn't he not even be aware? Or, if all the zealots were correct and the gods were real, shouldn't there be some eternal damnation meant for him? Nothing but suffering and torment? He knew enough about himself to know he hadn’t been good enough in life to where he deserved some kind of heavenly reward. A place of eternal happiness and contentment.

W…u….

Something started to come to him. It was faint and so quiet he had no idea if they were words or just a noise of some kind.

Wa…

Pause.

Th…

Another pause.

F…Up!

That was definitely a word. Someone, somewhere, was trying to talk to him. But he didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to interact. If his death meant eternal darkness and nothing else, then he was fine with that. It was actually more than he deserved. He knew it. A part of him didn’t want to listen. Nothing good would come from listening to that voice.

Wake…The…Fuck…Up.

Well fuck, he thought to himself. There was no denying that. What the hell did they mean though? Wake up? What was he supposed to wake up from? It wasn’t like he decided to take a nap in the middle of the fight with his sister. She killed him!

Then he felt the most disrespectful thing he could have in that frail moment of his dark death.

A slap.

A hard, vicious slap right to his face.

His eyes shot open all of a sudden and the world wove itself back into view. It was all blurs of color and a foggy incomprehension of what the hell was going on. Shapes were moving around above him but in the haze, but they didn’t have any sense of cohesion to them. They were blobs. Creatures that made no sense to him whatsoever.

“You really did a number on him, Lola,” someone said. The voice sounded strange in his ears too. Probably because they were ringing incessantly, which only made the fogginess to his head feel that much worse.

“He’s lucky he’s still alive,” he heard Lola say. “But I figured killing him just gave him an easy out. He needs to pay for the crimes he committed and I think King Harrison and Hank will be pretty creative as to what that punishment might entail. Much more so than me.”

Drake felt a dim, flickering anger building up inside him.

I’m still alive? he asked himself, not wanting to really believe it. That meant he would have to face a world where he lost a Blood Challenge to Lola. What the fuck? Not only that, but he would be delivered like a gift-wrapped present right to the human king?

“Ki…kill…me…go…gods…dammit!”

His voice came out in a pathetic, raspy whisper. He didn’t even have the strength to speak. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him. How could it be happening? Lola was a werewolf, true, but she had never turned before. She had never embraced her heritage in the past that he knew of. And when she did, she had changed into something he’d never seen or even heard of before. What the fuck was that all about?

The blobs and blurs of color were sharpening as more of his head healed itself. He realized he was on his back in the dirt with his father, Russel-Fucking-Polver, and Lola staring at him. There was no one else there. The Pit had, apparently, been emptied.

Lola leaned in closer to him, her eyes sparking with the barest hint of silver. He saw that glint and felt his heart start pounding in his chest again.

“Not a chance, Drake,” she said. There was a coldness to her. The fear-ridden girl he’d met in Gloucester was, in her own way, dead and gone as well. “I wanted to, don’t get me wrong. I almost did but at the last second, I realized that might do me more harm than you. You see, I might be a half-breed but I'm a zero-percent monster. You, on the other hand, are flat-out evil. The families left of the people you slaughtered deserve their own justice. Families that lived in other towns, cities, and villages that were out of your reach. King Harrison will be able to give them that justice.”

She stood back up, looked at Russel and their father, and gave them a nod of her head.

Russel took out a pair of pure silver manacles, making sure not to touch them with his bare skin by using gloves, and clasped them onto Drake’s wrists. He took out another pair and promptly put them on the Harvenk wolf’s ankles. The silver hissed against skin and curls of smoke lifted into the air. After Russel was done, he grabbed onto Drake’s shirt and then yanked him to his feet.

Drake didn’t fight it. He was weak though and nearly fell forward. Russel, however, held him up.

“Let’s go,” he said.

A few seconds later, the three left the Pit. Lola didn’t look back.

****

Outside the castle, Lola and Russel stood next to King Finley. Down below, the rest of the Oclan wolves waited for them. Most were hanging around a simple horse-drawn wagon with a barred cell built into it. Sitting pitifully inside was a haggard and worn Drake. His head hung down and his hair draped in front of his face. He didn’t try to move or break free. The silver manacles made any movement extremely painful.

“We’ll take him to the border. I’ve sent word ahead to Hank. Apparently, King Harrison is amenable to taking custody of Drake. He will see that the punishment fits his numerous crimes,” Russel said.

“The treaty will hold then,” King Finley said. “Peace. At least for now.”

He turned so he could look Russel in the eyes. “Your father and I had our pact, as you may know. I trust that it will continue going forward.” His eyes shifted to Lola for a second and then back to him. “Perhaps maybe we can forge a new, stronger one in the future.”

“Anything’s possible,” Lola said for Russel, a smirk touching her lips. She held out her hand to her father. “Thank you. I’m…glad that you told me the truth. I’m glad that I know the truth now too. Maybe we can spend some time together in the future. Get to know each other.”

“I would like that,” he told her.

She smiled at that. They were about to leave but before they could, King Finley stopped her.

“There’s one more thing before you go.” He gestured at a Harvenk servant who suddenly came running up to them and the man handed over a simple wooden box he’d been holding. Finley took it and then immediately dismissed him with a kind word of appreciation. After he turned and walked away, the Harvenk king handed the box to Lola. She took it with a questioning look on her face. “I wanted you to have these. They were left to you by your mother. Your biological mother.”

Lola took the box eagerly, a hunger to see what was inside almost overwhelming her. She was gentle with it though, despite that eagerness.

“What’s inside?” she asked, her voice suddenly sounding small to her.

“They’re the letters Drake found from your mother. He was about to burn them but thankfully, I got to him first. She wrote them to you,” he explained. “A human woman carrying a werewolf’s child can be dangerous. The mortality rate is….high. When your mother told me she was pregnant with you, we did everything we could to make sure she would be okay.” A look of deep sadness came over him. “She wrote you letters in case…in case the worst happened. Your mother was like that. She made a plan for everything.”

Lola felt tears start to fall down her cheeks. She raised a hand and brushed them away.

“Thank you,” she said again. She handed the box of letters to Russel and then gave Finley a big, warm hug. “For this and for everything else.”

“You’re welcome, my daughter,” he said, tears streaming from his own eyes.

They broke away from their hug and then Lola and Russel went down to the carriage. They climbed up and took a seat on the bench. Lola grabbed hold of the reins before Russel could and they began their trek to the border to meet with Hank to deliver Drake.