William (The Valentines) - By Sam Crescent Page 0,2

other witch screamed.

“Nooo!” James yelled. “Bitch!”

Emma threw more magic his way. William grabbed her before she allowed it to consume them both. She had created enough of a diversion.

They ran.

Neither of them was powerful enough to take down James and William needed to get to his father. He needed to warn everyone.

How was he going to tell his father—their leader—that they were at war with the wolves?

“William, stop.” He stopped and turned to the love of his life, then gasped.

She looked old; her hair was grey and her face gaunt.

“We have to go,” he insisted. “You’re using too much magic.”

She paused and pressed a kiss to his palm. “You have to go. You must tell your father.”

“Together, we can do this together,” he earnestly pleaded.

She shook her head. “I love you, William, and that’s why I have to help you. He will keep coming. James won’t stop.”

“Don’t do this,” he begged, tears falling from his eyes.

“I love you, Will. I always have. Listen to me. You will find another.”

He shook his head in denial.

“You will. I’ve seen it. You love me but you’re not meant for me. You’re meant for another.” She rested his palm against her heart. He could feel the steady beat. She wasn’t afraid—she had accepted her fate.

Once a witch knew what she had to do, in the steady beat of her heart, there was no stopping it.

William looked into the face of the woman he had loved for more than a century. She was his bonded mate. He loved her with all his heart and soul. He couldn’t imagine life without her.

She kissed him one final time.

“Well, isn’t this a touching scene?” James was standing a few feet away.

William broke the kiss and stared into the face of the man he was going to hunt for the rest of his life.

“You interrupted us.” Emma turned to him.

William noted the squared shoulders, the jaw set with determination. She was here for business and she was taking James with her.

“You killed my witch,” he growled.

“You killed hundreds of mine.” He could hear the anger and the rage. Her kind—her race. She was fighting for them. For the countless men and women who had lost their lives in this man’s hunt for domination.

“Well, that was just plain fun,” James gloated.

Emma screamed and threw all her power against him. It was awful to see. William watched and could do nothing. She’d cast a spell to keep him in place. He could only watch James winning, taunting her with his own abilities.

Finally she threw enough power against him, using up the last of her magic in a killing blow. James disappeared.

She collapsed in a bloodied heap on the ground.

William felt the magic wear off, releasing him, and he ran to her side.

The tears rolled down his cheeks, thick and fast.

“Oh God, Emma.” He cradled her so that she was draped across his lap.

Her face was pale, blood spilling from her mouth. “Go and warn the others.”

“I love you,” he said.

It was too late. She was gone.

William held her to him for the longest time. Her pale, lifeless body in his arms, laid against his heart. Time passed. It didn’t matter. He held her and he felt nothing.

“William… William… William…” He heard his name spoken, but he didn’t care.

Eventually he looked up to see his brothers, Robert, and Adam. They were waiting for him.

“I couldn’t save her,” he cried.

“Come with us.” Robert held out his hand.

He shook his head. He couldn’t leave her—he and Emma were meant to be together.

Adam shoved Robert out of the way and growled at William. “Look, William, it won’t help the situation if you just stay here and die.”

Reluctantly, William let her go. A witch needed to be given back to the earth. It was their way. He couldn’t take her with him. He laid her to rest, said his prayers and walked away with his brothers, a changed man.

Several hours later

James stood over the body of the dead witch. A waste, but worth it.

He moved over to the other witch and looked down into her face. She was a rare beauty. Her brown hair was tinted with the white of a witch who had abused her power.

“You should learn balance,” he tutted.

He knelt by her side and touched her cold cheek. He stroked the cold, lifeless flesh, so still and silent in death.

He pulled back, laughing as Emma came to, choking and gasping for air. She pulled the air into her lungs as if it were