Chapter Three
Shaw Black
It hit me all at once, like being yanked out of reality by invisible chains. One moment, I was grounded, breathing in the world around me, and the next, everything shattered. Sound folded in on itself. My body wasn’t moving, but it felt like I was falling.
The ground reappeared beneath my feet in a rush. My lungs dragged in a sharp, ragged breath. For a second, everything was too bright, too loud, too real. My knees wobbled, but my mate… my mate helped hold me steady.
“Give it a second,” Zola said, rubbing my back between my shoulders.
I look down, swallowing hard, willing myself not to vomit on the green sand beneath my feet.
“Breathe.”
I straightened, calling on my panther to help ground me. “I’m fine.”
She huffed a laugh. “Good. Because I’m shadow-jumping us straight into this fight.”
I bit my lip, shaking my head. My female, gods help me, is as vicious as she is beautiful.
“Daxton!”
Along the green shoreline, Daxton grunted, collapsing onto his knees. Skylar slipped her hands under his arms, catching him before he fell forward.
“I’m fine,” he grumbled.
“Right,” Skylar huffed, unconvinced, before uncorking a vial of red liquid and pressing it to his lips.
I knew it instantly. The famed remedy from Crimson City, capable of replenishing his reserves. It had done wonders for all of us after the battle against the nalusa falaya.
Daxton drained the vial, steadying himself. “You need to get in this fight, Spitfire. I’ll be fine in a few minutes. Shift and call your people.”
Skylar gave him a fierce yet tender look that only she could muster.
“Go, Spitfire—”
A sudden kiss cut off Daxton’s words.
Skylar pulled back, gave a quick nod, then took off at a sprint.
Magic shimmered in her wake as she shifted mid-stride, flames bursting around her.
In a flash, the phoenix rose, wings blazing as she soared into the sky.
Fire danced along the beach, and her song rang out, wild and free, echoing through the clouds.
Our pack answered. One by one, voices joined hers. The call of our people rising to meet their alpha.
Skylar Cathal
The scent of blood and ash devoured my homeland. My pack’s fear hummed through the bond, but beneath it was something fiercer—their courage.
They were ready and waiting for their alpha to join them in this fight.
I drew in a breath, feeling my fire stir in my chest, my phoenix’s magic answering my call.
It coiled beneath my skin, waiting to ignite the world below.
The battlefield spanned the meadow and thick pines below, where metal weapons collided, bodies clashed with teeth and fangs, and where my people were fighting for their lives.
I threw back my head and called to them, the sound tearing from my throat and rolling across the sky like piercing lightning.
“I’m here,” I called to them.
Their answering howls and roars rose to meet me, wild and fierce. It ignited a hidden strength that surged to the surface. The tether connecting us braided into an unbreakable bond.
Fire raced through my veins, searing and sweet, until I was nothing but heat and light. And then, I released my powers on the attacking horde below.
Flames arced in a violent, glorious eruption that eviscerated anything in its path. Wings of living fire spread wide from my shoulders. Each feather was a blade of gold and crimson, shedding embers that rained down like stars. The heat rolled off me in waves, distorting the world below.
I opened my mouth and sang—not in pain, but in release.
The sound became a flame, spilling from my throat in a river of liquid heat aimed at the human threat. It hit the ground below, and the earth itself seemed to shudder. Armor melted. Shadows vanished. Enemies fell to their knees, blinded by the brilliance of my magical flames.
The sound of bow strings releasing arrows sent me soaring back into the skies. The wind whipped past me as I flapped my wings and climbed higher and higher, until I felt the pull of another presence flying to meet me.
His mind brushed mine, solid and as sturdy as bedrock. “Alpha. Glad you could join us.”
“Fly with me, Gilen,” I answered, words carried on the pulse of the pack bond that bound us.
His massive roc form came into view, cutting through the smoke with ease. Wingspan stretching wide enough to challenge the heavens. The wind from his flight fueled my fire, fanning it into a brighter flame.
Together, we circled, then dove, united, into the thick of the fight.
Shaw Black
“Let’s move,” I said, turning to Zola. “No way I’m letting Gunnar or Skylar beat us to the battle grounds.”
Zola grasped my arm as the shadow swallowed us whole.
There was no air, only pressure. My stomach flipped as shadows swallowed me, and for a heartbeat, I didn’t exist. Not fully, anyway. I was somewhere between here and nowhere.
Like a snap of a rubber band, Zola and I reappeared in the thick of battle. The copper tang of blood flooded my senses in an instant as roars and screams filled my ears.
Unfazed by the jump, a dagger sprang into my mate’s hand. She threw it across the field, and it landed with a thud in the back of a mage’s skull.
“That’s one,” she said with a wicked grin, darkness dancing in her eyes. “Try to keep up.”
In a flash, she vanished into the shadows, only to reappear behind a tree, striking down a human hunter with ruthless precision. “Two.”
Let’s play.
The battlefield erupted in steel, teeth, claws, and the sickening thud of bodies hitting the ground. Smoke from fires cast by mages clung to the air, thick and bitter, stinging my throat with every breath as my heart slammed against my ribs. My panther raged, eager to be released.
I sprinted toward the chaos, ducking under an arrow and driving my shoulder into the soldier ahead. He hit the ground with a grunt, and I didn’t wait to finish him off.
My hands became paws. My skin darkened and thickened, fur bursting across my body. The pain was brutal on my first shift, but now it was as easy as breathing.
Everything sharpened—every scent, every sound, every heartbeat around me. I saw my enemies before they saw me, and the soldier lying dead at my paws didn’t have time to scream. I attacked. Claws slashed at his armor, before my fangs sank deep into his neck, feeling his life drain from his body.
“Well, that was exhilarating to witness,” Zola murmured, stepping over the body. “I’ve added one more. I’m up to three.”
I growled in approval, reaching for her mind through our bond. “What does the winner get?”
“A shared secret,” she answered.
A chill ran through our bond, caressing my insides. Gods, even in the thick of battle, this female could command me on my knees, and I’d happily obey.
Magic cracked through the air as the battlefield raged.
Human mages stood in tight formations, elements bending to their will, with weapons and shields of energy at their command.
At the same time, shifters surged through the fray in their beast forms: wolves with blood-matted fur, various mountain lions darting like shadows, bears roaring as they plowed through enemy lines, and a ferocious wolverine intent on spilling human blood.
Magic and claws collided, flaring against snapping jaws and raking talons.
I slashed hunters, mauled mages, and stalked a handful of archers hidden among the trees, picking off those targeting the deadliest of our kind.
Fifteen. Yet, it wasn’t enough.
We were outnumbered. Always had been.
A loud screech tore through the sky, accompanied by Skylar’s familiar song. Gilen’s wings cut through the smoke as he swooped down with talons open in a frenzy of primal fury and arcane power. Followed by an inferno ready to strike.
Skylar flew behind Gilen, the pair fighting in sync as she took command of the flames and bent them around our pack to keep them safe.
“Shaw!” Talon’s voice echoed inside my mind. I turned to him, overjoyed that he was in one piece with Rhea keeping pace at his side.
“Is that fucking Skylar?” Rhea exclaimed. “She’s a phoenix!”
I was about to answer when the sound of thundering feet drew my attention. Amidst the smoke and trees emerged an impenetrable wall of Silver Meadows warriors marching into the field with Gunnar at the front.
“Good, they’re here.”
“And they are?” Rhea asked.
“Our allies. Silver Meadows warriors.” Skylar’s voice rang out in all our minds, clear and commanding, our alpha.
“Tighten the lines!” human commanders yelled to their troops. “Fall back!”
The humans were afraid.
Yes, they had the numbers, but in this fight, they didn’t anticipate the High Fae. They didn’t bring enough soldiers into this battle.
“Everyone, fall back,” Skylar commanded from the sky. “Hurry and get to the boats.”
Shifters scattered, following their alpha’s decree and retreating to the shores where Fjorda’s boats were waiting.
“We’re staying,” Rhea snapped with a steely glare.
I rolled my eyes. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Warriors!” Gunnar’s voice echoed loud and powerful across the battlefield. “Hold!”
Every High Fae stopped.
“Archers!” a human commander bellowed. “Aim. Release!”
Arrows blackened the sky like a deadly storm descending when, suddenly, a barricade of ice surged upward, shielding the warriors below from the onslaught.
Castor and Daxton stood shoulder to shoulder behind their warriors, arms outstretched as their magic wove a protective veil over our side of the divide.
“Hold!” Gunnar roared. “Hold… Hold.”
“What are they waiting for?” Rhea’s claws dug into the ground as her tail twitched with angst.
I scanned the line of High Fae warriors. “You’ll see.”
“Attack!” the humans roared, charging across the field with swords drawn and battle cries tearing through the air.
“Fools,” I said, stepping back into the trees. “Come on, let’s go to the boats. They have this under control.”
“What?” Talon barked, his teeth bared, ready to rejoin the fight.
“Skylar needs us to help the others onto the boats. Leave this battle for the fae. They’ve got it handled.”
“Are you insane?” Rhea yipped. “They need every—”
Her words fell silent as the High Fae sprang into action.
The Silver Meadows warriors surged forward with an otherworldly grace, their movements effortless and fluid, as if the very air bent to their will. Their speed and strength unmatched by any mortal on the battlefield.
At the front, Gunnar led the charge, axes spinning in his hands like extensions of his own body. He cut through the horde of human soldiers with brutal precision. His blades sliced through armor and flesh as easily as a breeze swatting a fly.
“My gods,” Talon said, his ice-blue eyes wide with awe and possibly a dash of fear.
Magic crackled in the air, subtle and yet lethal at the same time.
The few remaining hunters and mages sprang forward into the fight, but they were no match for the High Fae.
The humans faltered, unable to match the ferocity and unity of their onslaught.
Ice broke through the barriers, diverting the magical blasts and penetrating shields.
The high king and now High Prince of Silver Meadows didn’t need to draw their blades in this fight.
Screaming a war cry, Gunnar’s eyes burned with relentless fury as he wove between the human defenses, axes whirling in deadly arcs.
Each movement was perfect—swift, precise, and merciless.
Bathed in the blood of his enemies, the general of the Silver Meadows warriors came to life.
The battlefield was theirs, and no force could stand against their wrath.
“Holy gods,” Rhea mumbled.
Talon’s jaw fell to the floor. “They… They’re—”
I nudged them both toward the shoreline. “I know. They are annoyingly good at killing. Come on, let’s go.”