Wolf Betrayed (Talon Pack #4)(60)

Beside them, Brandon fell to the ground. A bullet had hit the Omega’s side. Gideon growled even louder, and Bram did the only thing he could do: he protected his Alpha.

He wasn’t an enforcer anymore, but he would damn well act like a lieutenant and keep his new Alpha alive.

Parker, who had been at the Talons to speak to Gideon, went to Brandon’s side, helping the other man up. Brandon yelled at him, and Bram couldn’t tell what it was about. The other wolves shouted at one another, Parker trying to lead Brandon behind the den’s wards, and Brandon not wanting to leave. Finally, it seemed the two decided to fight alongside one another rather than with each other.

A bullet whizzed past Bram’s ear, and he pounced on another soldier, tearing the gun from his hands.

So far, the tank had been quiet, not letting out a single shot, and Bram could only pray it was there for show and not to take them out.

A wolf could outrun a bullet if they were up to full strength and saw it ahead of time.

They couldn’t live through a tank.

Right as he went to take out another soldier at Gideon’s back, he fell to his knees, his ears ringing so loudly he couldn’t catch his breath. A helicopter lowered itself, large speakers blaring an ultrasonic sound hanging out of its open doors. Blood seeped through Bram’s fingers when he pressed his hands to his ears.

Holy hell. Every single wolf—including Gideon—was down, the wavelength too much for their sensitive ears.

Bram looked over at Charlotte and Shane, who were holding hands as they tried to pick themselves up, blood and cuts covering their bodies. Charlotte hadn’t fully healed from her torture, nor had Shane from his initial change.

And Bram was too far away to help them.

He used all of his strength to at least get to Gideon’s side. Maybe together he and his Alpha could somehow take down the helicopter. If they could do that, they had a chance.

He shouldn’t have worried.

The Pack was made up of more than wolves, after all.

The few humans who were part of their Pack had continued fighting. In fact, they were covering the downed wolves, using weapons to take out any human soldier that got too close.

But they weren’t the ones that saved them all.

Leah led the witches of their Pack as they strode powerfully toward the helicopter. Two earth witches blocked anyone from coming near them, throwing mounds of dirt up into the air to create a wall of protection.

The fire witches scorched anyone that got too close, their flames licking up toward the helicopter itself.

And Leah, soft and sweet Leah, held up her hands, bringing forth a wave of water from the neighboring lake from behind Montag’s people. Her jaw set, she raised her hands higher, and the wave crashed down on top of the helicopter. The sound of screeching metal hitting the ground before becoming waterlogged was the best f*cking sound Bram had ever heard.

He stood on shaky legs next to Gideon once the ultrasonic waves weren’t hitting them anymore, his eyes wide.

“Holy f*ck,” Bram whispered.

“And she’s ours,” his Alpha said with a prideful growl.

The fighting continued, but the feeling was different, more triumphant. Ryder shot past them, running toward Leah, who looked to be swaying on her feet. That must have taken out most of her energy reserves. In fact, many of the weaker wolves on the field went to go pick up the fallen witches who had used the last of their powers to save them all. Ryder led the crew back to the den, and Bram knew he would be forever grateful for the witches and humans who had saved them all.

Bram and Gideon continued to fight as Kameron passed them, Walker on his heels. The Healer would kneel down to Heal a fallen wolf before moving on to the next, essentially performing battlefield triage. The man had to be working on a case by case basis to reserve his energy because there was no way Walker would make it any longer without doing so. Kameron stayed by Walker’s side, protecting his brother and fellow triplet when he couldn’t protect himself.

Brothers themselves, Max and Mitchell fought side by side, Mitchell with a determined grace that surprised Bram, and Max with a manic stride that put fear into anyone in his wake. When Mitchell took a bullet to the arm, Max jumped several feet into the air to pounce on the man who had shot his brother, ripping the gun from the man’s hands before he had a chance to take a second shot.

The Talons were winning, but things weren’t over.

They kept moving toward where Montag was as the man stood by his precious tank as if nothing would ever be able to touch him.

Bram would see the man dead.

Tonight.

He’d hurt both of his mates, and deserved all the pain that came to him.

“Now!” Montag yelled at that exact moment, and Bram hit the ground—as did each wolf around him.

The tank fired, and Bram’s heart sank. They couldn’t outrun this. There was no way they’d be able to, not with the firepower Montag had at his disposal.

Only the shot went over their heads…right into the wards that kept the den safe. Bram looked over his shoulder as the wards became fully visible, a kind of film coating them like a bubble trapped on the ground. Only the cracks that had formed earlier were now even larger.

Entire pieces of the wards fell away, and Bram knew this could be the end.

Only the wards didn’t fall.

He narrowed his eyes right at the edge of them, shock slamming into him.