*Ryatt*
My men are doing exactly what I told them to do. Run. Run in circles around camp. Try to get the hounds to funnel between the two huge rock formations we camped between. Trap them on either side.
I try not to think about the bloodshed, not yet. There’s only a few of us left after battling with my father’s men.
Everyone is in their wolf forms except for me. I wield the sword–an ancient weapon that belonged to my mother’s family and was passed down to me. A sword from the first war, the same war that decided the fate of this land.
A hellhound in the form of a bear charges for me, chasing two of my men. The wolves bank in opposite directions as I raise my sword and swing, sending the blade across the bear's back. Its cry of agony rains down on us as sparks fly in my sword's wake.
Somewhere in the forest, a scream echoes off the trees. A female scream, one of pure, unadulterated frustration. I turn to the sound, panting, blood and sweat dripping from my brow as I narrow my eyes into the dark.
Silver eyes meet mine as the bear turns around, it’s back flayed open, it’s spine wholly visible. How long have I been playing this game with this creature? Minutes, hours?
‘How many are there?’ I send the words down the mind-link to Granger.
‘Four!’ His voice cries out down the bond, then dies out.
Fuck. I grind my teeth as the bear hurdles back toward me. I swing low this time, aiming for its front legs. Dark fire ignites where the sword meets the bear's legs, but it keeps running, leaving a bloody trail in its wake.
You can’t kill something that’s not alive.
But you can slow it down.
I need to find their handlers. They want us dead, but these women are supposed to be my allies.
Muffled screams of terror skitter down the mind-link–my men.
I whirl as the bear returns, slower this time, and send the sword through its neck. It should have been a clean, swift death. The moment should have taken its head off, but it sways side to side, its glowing silver eyes fading like a dying ember.
Another scream of frustration from somewhere in the woods.
The bear falls forward, kneeling on what's left of its front legs, and slumps to the ground. It’s only a matter of time before the witch controlling it is able to get it moving again, even if its injuries are created by my weapon.
The wolves the bear had been chasing linger in the tree line, watching. I nod at them, breathless, and they disappear into the darkness to find another hound and wait for me to catch up to them.
Two down, another two to go. But then what?
The thought of the witches finding Ella and the other women has me snapping back to attention and running into the darkness, following the scent of my men. Even the moon is shying away from this battle. Dark rain clouds blur the only light breaking through the decaying canopy of trees above my head.
‘Where are you?’ I say to Granger down the bond after a few minutes of running. The link has gone quiet, and so has the forest. It’s a creeping sensation that makes every muscle in my chest go rigid with unease. ‘Granger?’
* * *
*Ella*
The lion’s eyes are full of silver fire. I step closer, casually, looking the beast up and down. My hair whips in the wind, fanning across my face. “Where is your master, kitty cat?”
Its teeth continue to drip with blood. Its eyes turn on Amanda, and it lets out a roar that causes the trees to sway. The sound buries itself in my chest, twisting and writhing. It’s awful. I resist the urge to cover my ears and instead raise my hands, letting them glow a deep, dark red.
“Take me to your masters!”
The lion snarls in answer and lunges for me.
But before I can send my powers forward, a golden wolf leaps in front of the lion, and the two go rolling deeper into the woods.
Amanda lets out a fox's cry, a sound so like the scream of a startled child that I whip toward the noise, my eyes wide in shock. She bounds toward the wolf at an incredible rate of speed.
My mind goes numb then explodes with noise. The voices of Thorne and the men I don’t yet know personally ring through my ears through the mind-link. I shouldn’t be able to hear them screaming for help, or backup, should I?
They’re not my packmates, but… they are. Not only are they members of my pack, a pack I don’t even know the name of, but I am their Luna.
Ryatt said so.
Fury rips through my body, clearing my mind. I scream in pure, white hot anger and send my powers forward, red light tearing through the trees and turning them to glowing embers.
The golden wolf snarls and whimpers as the lion’s claws dig into its chest. The lion has the wolf on its back, its belly totally exposed to the lion’s knife-sharp talons. Red light snakes toward where the two are battling on the forest floor.
But then I see her darting toward them. Amanda, nothing more than a copper blur running at a full sprint toward the wolf, right in my line of fire.
“AMANDA!” I scream, lowering my hands and curling them into fists. My powers immediately cease, the red glow that once lit the forest dying out and blanketing us in darkness.
There’s a glow, however, coming from the where the hound, the wolf, and Amanda now lay in a heap of dark shadows. Silver starlight pours from the tiny fox now struggling back to her feet. Amanda turns her head to me, eyes glowing a pale crimson as silver power pours from her coppery fur.
I take several steps back as she turns to me.
‘Well, this is new,’ Amanda says into my mind, her voice as clear as a bell. ‘You really are a witch.’
I nearly fall to my knees in relief. I swear I can see a smile in her eyes as she turns back to the lion, who is starting to stir.
I run forward to stop her but see Granger, now in his human form, lying beneath the lion, coated in blood. He’s not moving. His eyes are closed, his lips parted.
“No, no, no!” I cry, and lunge for him.
The lion falls over on its side as it struggles to find its footing. My red light courses through its veins, giving it an eerie, unearthly glow. But the glow starts to fade at the same moment I gather Granger into my arms and drag him into my lap, balancing his head between my hands.
I barely have a second to breathe. Another hound comes lumbering through the woods in front of us shaped like another large cat. This one is smaller, more agile, but its mouth is full of sharply pointed fangs that glisten despite the near total darkness.
Granger lets out a strangled groan.
Anger. Frustration. Heartbreak. Guilt. All four emotions writhe in my heart. I came here to save the people I loved. I gave up my homeland and family so they could live in peace.
I came here, and everything went to hell for these people, people who have done nothing but try to protect me.
My mind goes blank. My terrified expression slackens. Amanda, still glowing with power, positions herself between me, Granger, and the new hound.
‘Kill it,’ I say to her down the mind-link–something that snapped into place the second my powers merged with her.
In a blur of light, she’s gone, her small jaw crunching down on the big cat's neck.
A horrific sound echoes through the forest as the hound screams. An answering female scream slices through the still air somewhere nearby. Next to me, the lion trembles but doesn’t rise.
I watch Amanda tear into the hellhound without blinking. I don’t shed a tear. I don’t smile, or say a single word.
I watch as she continues her devastating attack..
But movement catches my attention just as Amanda finishes tearing the hellhound into several pieces and Its head rolls away.
It’s stopped by someone’s boot.
Ryatt and several of his wolves stand in the tree line, wide eyed, coated in sweat and blood. His hair is loose over his shoulders, soft black curls drifting in the wind. Thorne stands beside him, half dressed, gashes running down his arms and chest.
Ryatt looks from Amanda, to me.
“You turned her into a hellhound,” he says softly, as if he didn’t mean to say it out loud.
“I guess so,” I whisper back, my words carried away by the wind.
Thorne steps forward, one hand on his dagger as he glances between Amanda, who is sitting back on her haunches and licking her bloody paws, totally unperturbed, and me.
A sizzling sound fills the area. The two hellhounds crumble to ash and are carried away by the wind.
The gale stops, and silence falls over us. Ryatt turns his head toward the forest as keening begins–female cries of pure anguish and despair.
“What is that?” I ask, adrenaline giving way to the fear I’ve been keeping tamped down.
Ryatt doesn’t answer. He doesn’t sheath that deadly sword as he walks toward me, keeping his eyes on the forest. He kneels next to me, one hand resting on my shoulder. His touch sends warmth fluttering over my chilled skin, and I fight against a sigh of relief.
He looks down at Granger then the men waiting in their wolf forms next to Thorne.
I have an overwhelming feeling we’re waiting for something.
“No one has ever killed a hellhound before,” Ryatt says softly to me. His grip on my shoulder tightens into a brief squeeze, something that drips with… pride.
It’s enough to make my throat tighten. I nod, stealing a glance at him before looking back to the woods. “Hannah is safe. Are we?”
“No,” he says with brutal honesty.
Amanda walks toward Thorne and the wolves who all take several steps away from her, their eyes wide with shock, and maybe a little fear.
‘I’m not mad about all of this, not one bit,’ Amanda says smugly through the mind-link. I can hear her smirk in the words. She comes to a stop in front of the rest of the wolves, and the entire group slides away from her again.
Ryatt watches her for a moment before turning his attention back to the woods.
It’s too still, too quiet, as shadows form and creep toward us through the trees. At least a dozen figures wearing cloaks of pure black emerge. They stand just within the trees and don’t move forward as Ryatt slowly rises to his feet and grips his sword.
Finally, one of the figures steps forward. Long, elegant hands reached up and push back the black hood covering the figure's face.
All of us gasp in shock.