All Chapters of The Pack's Emissary: Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

Havermouth, Present TimeAislen could hear people yelling and screaming above the ringing of her ears and the crackle of flame. There was a crash of something collapsing into rubble. She had been tossed like a ragdoll by the magical explosion of the combination of the Mer Sirens’ power and Leighton’s into the doorway of one of the shops, the solid bases of brick and tile sheltering her even though the bay windows had cracked and shattered inwards.The smoke was thick catching at the back of her throat so that she coughed, tears streaming down her face, her eyes stinging and her lungs straining for air. She could see through its drifts that the buildings closer to the bridge were all burning, the flames licking the sky.Everything ached. She had landed hard on her hip, knee, and elbow from the pain that radiated from each point. She sat up slowly and groaned as the baby within her reacted, the surface of her stomach tightening, and the sensation of pressure downward increasing. She lean

Havermouth, Present TimeSamuel circled high in the sky watching below as the Mer approached the bridge. So far, there was nothing about the Mer approach to be alarmed about. It seemed as if the Mer were doing precisely what they had discussed with the Emissary.A glint in the distance however caught his eye. For a moment he debated staying and watching the meeting or investigating. He decided to investigate. His heart began to race when he saw that the Mer had infiltrated the streets of the town. They had encountered the first roadblock and had divided up to investigate alternative routes so that the little side streets and alleys glittered with Mer in armour. Further into the town, he caught a shift of light – something moving that was reflecting the scenery around it. Camouflage.They were headed towards where the streets were busy with pedestrian traffic. That in itself was unusual for Havermouth. The civilians had been told to keep movement to the minimal, to seek shelter, and st

Havermouth, Present TimeTalen was on fire. He had been thrown by the explosion through the window of a shop, and the fireball that had followed had torn the wood and metal of the structure down over him, along with shelving and stock. His head had struck the concrete flooring hard enough that he had blacked-out, and it wasn’t until the pain of his beard catching alight registered that he was shocked back into alertness. He fought his way free of the burning debris and slapped out the fire that scorched hair and flesh, his hand coming away with black char and wet skin. How long had he lay slowly burning?(Talen! Are you okay?) Morgana cried out in his mind.(A little singed around the edges) he lied. He was far from okay. His hands and chest shrieked in pain, and he could feel that the fabric knit stuck to the burnt skin below its charred surface, but his neck and cheek no longer hurt. The area felt stiff, fragile, and foreign - as if it did not quite belong to him. He knew that to be

Havermouth, Present TimeThe town had erupted into chaos underneath him as Samuel navigated his way back to the witch’s house where he had left Ember. The zombies moved with purpose, seemingly drawn towards the center of the town, and the Mer soldiers followed in their wake. The Mer, however, after the explosion in the town, seemed to have decided that the zombies were no longer their only targets, and they had begun dragging people from their homes, leaving behind a trail of dead bodies and crumpled buildings.In addition, behind the zombies were the humans of the Van Helsing army, and as they encountered the Mer in the streets they began to deploy larger, more destructive weapons, hand grenades, and infantry support weapons.Flying this low was becoming hazardous, he was within the sites of the small tanks and machine guns. Plus, either the Mer or the Van Helsings were destroying buildings, so every now and again, a blast from below would batter his flight path, before shooting up a

Havermouth, Present TimeAislen smiled as she finally managed to lay Gera down in the cot and took a moment to admire the chub of her sleeping daughter’s cheek and the soft blonde hair that Heath had styled into pigtails that morning. In her sleep, Gera’s mouth worked, sucking on an imaginary breast although she was long weaned and onto blood, as if the memory of nursing lingered in her dreams.Aislen crept across the room, avoiding the floorboards that squeaked but left the door open behind her as was their habit so as to hear when Gera woke no matter where in the house they were. With four parents with hybrid keen hearing, there had never been a need for a baby monitor in order to hear when Gera woke from a nap.For a moment, Aislen contemplated returning to the art studio upstairs that she had appropriated from Rhett, though she let him use it if he asked nicely on his knees between her thighs. She paused with her hand on the newel post and one foot on the stairs, and then heard a