Matthias POV

The fight was terrible. We were closed in by the building, not in the spacious forest as we were used to fighting. The scent of blood had nowhere to go and overwhelmed me. I had already killed as many of these easterners today as I had probably in all the battles I had fought before. I was getting tired and the deaths were weighing on me more than I would ever admit.

Elise indicated the false king across the room, a coward with a weapon. My rage pounded hot and hard and I wanted nothing more than to rush towards him and take him out once and for all. I wanted his life like I had never wanted another, maybe not even the bastard's.

He was the root and I wanted to dig him out and burn him for what he had done to our people, for every death his insistent aggression had caused.

But to go for his throat, I would leave Elise exposed.

Serge lunged towards the king and I made my decision, fending off another enemy who had tried to sneak up beside me, perhaps in Elise's direction.

When a second one pulled the same trick, I knew they had realized she was my weakness. I cursed internally wishing I could let out that string on my opponents. It would not help, but it would make me feel better and that was worth something.

Instead I slammed my body into one of them and knocked him off and out of the way. Todd got his jaws on him and I turned my attention back to the other one, who was getting too close to Elise again. It made me angry, and with my anger came a surge of adrenaline.

Then I heard Elise's words, "The king is dead!"

I did not have time to check the veracity of those words, because one of them dug his canines into my leg and held on like a vice grip, but I twisted and got my teeth into his neck. I did not kill him, but the wound was oozing blood and it would weaken him at least as much as my own leg.

I needed room to weave and retreat, but we were hemmed in here and I would not leave my position in defending Elise from the worst of the fighting.

And then, from the corner of my eye, Elise sprinted forward barely avoiding the mass of snarling wolves in her vulnerable human form. It looked very much like I had imagined it would have looked like when she leapt recklessly into the battle when she got cursed.

I hardly had time to bemoan her recklessness, since one went for her and I pounced forward. I got the back of his leg with him jaws, pulling him to a stop. I had three on me again. It must have meant that reinforcements had arrived since at the rate we were killing them, we should have been finished with them all. But the fight dragged on and we were not victorious.

Then I spotted Tabitha, scanning the fight and searching for a clear shot, and realized our reinforcements had also arrived. There were some fighting in the hall, but Jack took down one of my opponents. I managed to latch my jaws into one's tender side as he tried to dodge past me, and I wrenched it with everything in me.

It would not be fast, but he would be down for the count in moments.

I sprinted towards where Elise was now crouched next to Serge. I could hear her murmuring softly to him, almost as if he were a child who needed comfort. Her hands were on his side, and she seemed intent on keeping pressure on the wound.

The scents of multiple fluids consumed the room so I could not pick out any single individual scent, but I was certain that even if Serge had been alone here, the room would have been filled with the scent of metallic tang.

As I put my body between her and her master and the fighting, her words to him were clear.

"S-Serge, what are you doing? You know you shouldn't transform when you're injured. Doctor Fischer..."

Her voice trailed off, probably since he had already done exactly what she had told him not to do. Stubborn bastard. I had no more time to appreciate my rival's mule-headedness, because another wolf came for me.

My snarl was loud and intimidating. Somebody needed to turn off the spigot already. Seriously, were we in some eastern wolf spawn spot? I was tired of killing them, physically and emotionally, but probably they were making some last ditch effort to save their king.

The secretary was wailing again and the sound hurt my ears almost as much as the gunshot had. I ripped through one enemy, then another and then finally another. I heard a couple more shots. Apparently now that one had been fired, there was no point in trying to be quiet.

Finally, finally, no more wolves came towards me. We were alone in an office, the minimalistic design painted with blood and littered with the bodies of the dead and the dying.

The vision imprinted on my mind and I expected that I would never forget this horror before me.

I turned away from it and towards Elise. I transformed, the rags of my clothing still barely hanging on me with just enough coverage, but I did not care.

I could see the bastard was not in good shape. He needed help, so I grabbed his phone out of his pocket.

"Code?" I asked him since I was locked out.

Serge told me and I punched it in. I swiped to the contacts and found Doctor Fischer.

"We've got injuries on the twenty-third floor." He acknowledged that he would come up and I hung up. I dropped the phone beside the prone man beside me.

Elise was upset. She had tears welling up in her eyes and running down her cheeks as she pressed her weight onto the balled up scraps of shirt over the spot where the blood still seemed to be leaking.

"Elise," I said, pushing her gently aside, taking over putting pressure on it. I was heavier and stronger than her and it did not take a lifetime of knowing her to see that she was falling apart.

She cared about him, it was clear. I had hated to watch how close she had gotten to him after what he had done to her. Even now, it made my blood boil. But it had been an error and he had tried to rectify it. Besides being a good leader, the bastard was a decent person, so how could I begrudge him her forgiveness?

Even if she loved him, how could I begrudge Elise her gentle heart? It was what I loved about her, the way she cared about those who suffered. I loved her, all of her, and even this side effect of forgiveness, what could I do but accept it as another choice she made, especially now, when it looked like things were dire.

Then he opened his eyes and they fixed on her face. It was as if there was no one else in the room but the two of them. I did not interfere, although I could feel the burn of jealousy heating my blood.

They were bound in a way that angered me and I did not understand, but Elise needed this.

"Elise?" he rasped.

"S-Serge, you're going to be okay," she told him. I did not know if she meant it as a promise or as a lie. She was worried. She could see that it was as bad as I could.

If Serge were my enemy in battle, I would assume in his condition he was only a few heartbeats away from defeat, but she was not as familiar with the line between death and life as I was.

"That's not true," he said to her with a smile.

"You have to hold on."

He shook his head. "I can't."

"You have to," she insisted. "I don't want you to die."

"I know. Thank you."

"I don't want y-you to thank me," she said in a voice that nearly broke my heart with the sound of her pain.

"I love you," he told her, his voice low and grave.

I could see tears run down her cheeks like a storm. Those warm orbs turned to me questioningly.

I closed my eyes for a second. It hurt, but she had been honest. She needed permission, because she was afraid of hurting me. "Elise, you love him, too."

She cried harder and leaned down towards him. "He's right. I do love you, too, S-Serge. I shouldn't care about you both, but I do, I'm sorry. And I don't want y-you to die. You promised to survive." Her words stabbed me, but they were true. And for this moment, perhaps I could rein myself in and let Serge have some comfort, just in case...

"Some things are beyond me," he said, his voice raspy. "Be happy, Elise. I want you to live."

"Serge," she said, her voice high with renewed panic.

He did not respond.

"S-Serge? Serge? This is not how this was supposed to end," she whimpered.

"I'm sorry, Elise," I said, not moving my hands from keeping pressure on him, just in case I was reading the situation wrong. Hate, pity, love, jealousy, I still meant my words to her.