Chapter 23 - Wyn #2
Oren rushes out from his concealed position at the optimal moment, and together, the three of us execute an assault that Mordaunt’s individualistic approach can’t counter. He’s powerful enough to defeat any one of us, but not prepared to take us all on.
Through the chaos, I catch glimpses of the battle unfolding around us.
Thornridge's newest recruits—the ones Raegan told me about, the disgruntled pack members Mordaunt recruited—are being torn apart on the front lines while his veteran forces hang back.
He's using them exactly like she said he would. Disposable assets to test our defenses.
The tactic might be effective, but it's also predictable. We planned for it.
My teeth find his throat just as Dorian attacks his hindquarters and Oren strikes his exposed flank. The triple assault overwhelms his defenses and drives him to the ground.
We pin him there, three wolves working in perfect sync against one who never learned to fight as part of something bigger than himself.
Mordaunt’s response is a snarl of rage and disbelief.
Meanwhile, Veva appears near Raegan’s position, her magical abilities evident in the energy flowing around her hands. “I can amplify her disruption of the weapon systems,” she calls out.
“Do it,” I respond while maintaining pressure on Mordaunt.
Veva extends her caster abilities to enhance Raegan’s psychic assault on the remaining magical weapons. Together, they create a resonance disruption that causes the entire Thornridge arsenal to overload and explode.
The effort pushes both women beyond their limits. Raegan collapses first, and Veva staggers and falls moments later as her magical reserves are completely drained.
My wolf wants to abandon everything and go to her. The bond between us screams that my mate needs me. But Mordaunt is still a threat, still capable of rallying his forces if we give him the chance. So I hold my position even as every instinct begs me to check if she's breathing.
Trust. That's what this whole thing has been about. Trusting her to handle herself. Trusting our allies to protect her while I finish this. Trusting that she's strong enough to survive what she just did.
“Medical teams to the command center,” Jay radios. “Priority casualties incoming.”
The sound of approaching vehicles draws our attention. Thornridge reinforcements, arriving too late to affect the main battle, but attempting to extract their surviving forces.
“Kill me then,” Mordaunt growls from the ground. “Prove your dominance.”
“No,” I say, stepping back but maintaining position. “We’re not like you. But you’re not leaving, either.”
Oren pins Mordaunt to the ground while Dorian coordinates with approaching allied forces. “Secure all prisoners,” he orders. “Priority on their commander.”
The Thornridge extraction vehicles find themselves surrounded by Llewelyn forces and pack fighters. A brief firefight erupts, but Captain Morwen’s units quickly overtake the disorganized rescue attempt.
“Bastian escaped,” Jay reports over the radio. “But we’ve captured Mordaunt and most of his remaining forces.”
“We’ll find him,” Oren promises. “After what he did to my sister, we’ll find him.”
I shift back to human form and rush to Raegan’s position. She’s collapsed beside the now-silent magical weapons, her body completely still.
“Is she alive?” I ask Sage, who’s already kneeling beside my wife.
“Barely,” the witch responds. “She pushed too far, Wyn. Her supernatural system has completely collapsed.”
Dora appears beside us and begins assessing her friend’s condition. “Her pulse is weak but steady. Breathing shallow.”
Sera joins the group around Raegan. “I’ve seen psychic exhaustion before, but never this severe.”
Veva lies nearby, and her mate Emin is crouched beside her. “She amplified Raegan’s abilities at the end,” he explains. “The magical feedback knocked her out, but she’s stable.”
“Will she recover?” I ask about Raegan.
“Unknown,” Sage admits. “This level of psychic damage is beyond my experience.”
Theodore approaches, having shifted back to human form. “Battlefield secure. Thornridge forces have withdrawn. Casualties are surprisingly light given their weaponry advantage.”
Dorian jogs over to us and says, “The medical team is setting up a treatment area. We need to get her there immediately.”
I gather Raegan’s unconscious body in my arms and cradle her against my chest as allied forces begin securing the battlefield. Around us, the evidence of our successful defense is clear—destroyed magical weapons, scattered enemy equipment, but most of our fighters are still standing.
Elder Nettle approaches with several younger witches. “We can maintain healing enhancement spells during transport. It won’t repair the damage, but it might prevent further deterioration.”
“Do whatever you can,” I tell her.
Behind me, the valley shows signs of the battle that nearly destroyed it.
Scorched earth marks where magical weapons fired.
Bodies of both allied and enemy fighters await burial or evacuation.
But the infrastructure remains intact, the civilian shelters are unbreached, and the community is preserved.
Raegan will be happy.
I carry Raegan inside and place her on the prepared medical table as healers from multiple traditions begin their work. Witch healers, Llewelyn medical specialists, and pack medics collaborate in ways that would have been impossible before this crisis forced cooperation.
The immediate threat has ended. Thornridge’s magical weapons lie destroyed, their forces scattered, and their commander defeated. Our alliance held together under pressure, our tactics succeeded, and our community remains intact.
The question now is whether Raegan survives this at all. Whether I saved her from Bastian's poison only to watch her die from exhaustion on a battlefield and if the last time I held her conscious in my arms will be the last time I ever get to hold her.
I can't think about losing her. Won't think about it. She has to survive this. She has to.