Altair
Why did this shit keep happening to me?
The ground opened up, and certainly, that was a thing I’d occasionally wished to happen—that I could disappear and just stop dealing with whatever trials were before me.
But why couldn’t that have happened with Ivan or in the witches’ cage, instead of while there was a witch flinging spells at a young girl?
All right, perhaps they were flinging spells at me, but Evie was there at my side, her shoulders bunched up and claws splayed wide in the dirt, snarling and barking.
I only saw a flash of Leo’s face before he was gone, hidden behind the visage of a wolf, running past me over the porch.
Another witch was back there. As I dragged at my legs, trying to pull myself free, the witch in front of us gathered another spell, weaving power through her fingers.
Evie barked and threw herself forward, but the witch’s hand lashed out, and Evie went sailing through the air. She landed on the hard-packed ground with a yelp.
That sound set me free. She’d hurt Evie.
Maybe she meant to hurt me, but I didn’t give a damn, because Evie’s slight body threw up dirt as she skidded through it.
The witches used wolves, just like they’d used me, and I wasn’t going to let them put a hand on her.
Or a spell.
None of it.
A second later, I was running across the square, faster than any human could move. The witch tossed out a spell that crackled above me when she flinched back, setting the dry leaves in a nearby tree aflame.
With a snarl, I grabbed her and yanked her in close.
My fangs tore through her throat and I gulped down her blood, swallow after swallow. It was the first time in ages that I’d drank without hesitation, without a modicum of patience at all.
Life zinged through my limbs, but the taste was . . . off. It wasn’t much better than the rats. I didn’t know if that was the magic, or my fury and fear souring the whole thing.
The witches were bad enough, but had they brought Ivan with them? It was dark, and any moment, he could come out . . .
He wouldn’t. There were only the two witches—this one, and the one Leo had caught. I didn’t see any others.
If Ivan came, he’d come with a small army. He’d always been a fan of overkill.
Above me, the flames went out. The magic fading with her.
With a sick clench to my stomach, I pulled my mouth off the woman. I dropped her, and she fell dead and gray on the ground.
Stepping back, I searched out the eyes of the wolves who’d seen me. Most were coming from the worksite.
Aleks was rushing into the square, calling for Katya, who came out onto the porch with a worried frown.
I licked my teeth clean as Evie shook herself and stood up on four legs. She seemed all right, perhaps recovered already if she’d been harmed at all, but I inched away from her.
I expected her to flee from me, shrink at the blood on my lips, but she padded forward. When I extended my hand, she sniffed at my fingers and pressed into my hand.
My chest gave a hard squeeze, and I scratched her ear. “Thank you,” I whispered.
Maybe it was just a young girl who’d defended me, but she had. She’d been willing to fight for me, and that knowledge alone was humbling.
On the other side of the porch, there was a sound, a warning growl.
Leo led the other witch around. The witch’s whole body was shuddering as he crawled across the ground.
Grimacing, he lifted his head. I remembered him from the coven house—Tristan, I thought.
But he’d never come to me the way others had.
When he laid eyes on me, saw his companion dead at my feet, he flinched.
He shoved up onto his knees, hissing a curse.
Leo, behind him, didn’t see the movement right off.
A split second’s confusion almost allowed the witch his freedom—at least to cast another spell.
I didn’t think he’d make it out of the werewolves’ territory alive, but me?
If the light that grew from his palms meant anything, I suspected I’d be a pillar of ash in about three seconds.
Evie yelped, struggling to shove me out of the way as I tried to get her behind me. I staggered to the side, unsure what to do. Did I run toward the witch, attack him, try to defend this place?
Had I already spilled too much blood here?
Before I could decide, a three-legged wolf bounded through the air. I didn’t know how he’d managed to get such height with just one back leg, but he sailed past me and over Evie, sinking his fangs into the witch casting his spell.
The witch shrieked, jerking at his arm, but the wolf’s bite was too fierce, and he wasn’t letting go. The wolf swung through the air and hit the ground on three legs, pulling the his quarry over, bitten arm still trapped in his jaws.
The witch hit the ground screaming. He pulled his arm to his chest, but it didn’t matter. Whether his magic would wither, or his life would, it was too late to do anything about it.
“Pa!” Cash cried, rushing past Aleks and Viktor, both still on two feet. He ran through the new square to kneel at his father’s side, but the wolf who’d attacked had faced no violence. He wasn’t harmed at all.
With the witch at his side, he sat upright, calm and patient.
I wouldn’t have been so fearless to sit beside my enemy, but this wolf was. He didn’t attack the witch again and ignored him entirely as he lay there whimpering and clutching his bloody arm.
After a moment, he nudged Cash toward Evie, sending him over to run his hands through her thick gray fur to check for injuries.
“You’re okay?” he asked.
She yipped. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth, her eyes sparkling with victory as she looked at me like we’d . . . like we’d done something good.
This was pack—the protection, working together to take care of each other.
And for one reason or another, they’d saved me too.
Viktor’s glare, however, said he was none too pleased about it.