Thicker than Water (Fangs and Feuds #1)

Thicker than Water (Fangs and Feuds #1)

By Remi Lebeau

Prologue The same shade of hazel

PROLOGUE: THE SAME SHADE OF HAZEL

Amara

“It’s over, Leander.”

Realization sets in in the yellow eyes of the supernaturally enormous wolf that crouches before me. Behind him, the lake of the Arundel forest glitters in the autumn sun. It looks strangely peaceful, despite the battle unfolding around it.

Leander Arundel is flanked by two other wolves, each panting heavily and looking to their Alpha for guidance. I watch them in my peripheral vision, but I don’t break eye contact with my main target.

This isn’t my first rodeo.

“You’ve lost,” I continue, my voice steady and clear, although I know his keen wolf shifter hearing can pick it up easily. “You’re outnumbered. You might have been able to fight off the panther shifters, but the Hecate witches have you surrounded.”

I fly lower on my broomstick, my golden battle robe flowing around me. My hawk familiar circles the trapped wolves, his keen eyes watching them closely. He’ll warn me if they lash out, or try to make a last-minute run for it.

“Leander, be smart,” I say. “You can’t keep fighting forever. When night falls, the northern vampires will take over for us.”

The wolf bows his head. With a heavy sigh of resignation, he shifts back into his human form. He’s a short man, powerfully built, with a proud tilt to his chin and fire in his eyes. They’re the last to turn, from bright yellow to hazel .

The same shade of hazel as my eyes. We’re not related, but my father always taught me to see myself in my enemies, to remind myself of their humanity. He used to say that the respect we show to our foes is worth a hundred times what we show to our allies.

His words ring as true today as they ever did. All around us, the wolf shifters change back to their human forms. There are only about two dozen or so, scattered across the open field by the lake. Bruised and battle-weary, they bow their heads and raise their hands in surrender.

“A wise choice, Leander,” I say, with a respectful nod to their Alpha.

Then I signal to the rest of my witch guard. There are thirty of us on the battlefield today. My fellow witches wear the same gold, yellow and green battle robes that I do. They fly on broomstick and are accompanied by animal familiars of every type. I spot my best friend, Callista Craft, her dark red hair plaited in a braid that runs down her back. Her palms are open to the sky, radiating golden energy magic. She gives me a cheeky wink as her and the other witches begin to round up the defeated wolf shifters. They’ll be kept under close watch before being taken to the Cave, the most notorious magical prison on the continent.

It’s not a smart move to antagonize the Hecate coven witches. My coven is the largest in North America and arguably the most powerful. Because of our power, there’s been a long stint of peace only recently interrupted by the conflict between our allies, the local panther shifters, and the Arundel wolf pack. The panthers are also present on the battlefield, but their numbers are much smaller. A dozen panthers shift into their human forms, grinning and clapping each other on the back in victory.

I don’t join their celebration, at least not yet. I hover on my broomstick, surveying the wolf shifters as they’re taken away.

Leander Arundel, grizzled and defeated, marches alongside his pack. He brings his head up to look me square in the eye. “Mark my words, Hecate witch. This isn’t the last you’ve seen of us. Your peace is fragile, and your days are numbered!”

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