Chapter 39
ROWEN
My throat burns like fire when I swallow. Every breath comes out a rasp. Every movement reminds me of Tobias’s hands around my neck, his panic, his strength. I can still feel it. The press of his fingers, the flash of hate in his eyes before he realized what he was doing.
But there’s no time to think about that now.
The pack’s alarm hits like a physical thing, slamming through me in waves of adrenaline and fury. Even in human form, I feel it—the collective snap, the crack of power rippling through the clearing. Someone yells my name from downstairs, and before I can think twice about it, I’m moving.
Evelyn takes a crying Aster upstairs while the rest of us go outside. The porch thunders under my feet as I leap from it, shifting midair. My paws hit the ground hard, and a snarl rips from me when I pick up the sharp scent of oil and copper.
Vampires.
There are eight of them in the middle of the clearing. At the center, one mage with streaked red hair and ruby eyes. His long black cloak billows behind him, hands glowing bright red.
Orem.
I’ve only seen pictures of the mage, yet the man is everything I thought he would be. Deadly. Powerful. Persuasive.
And he’s here threatening my family.
I scan the lineup, counting three female vampires and two males. The others, I’m not sure. I don’t recognize any of them, which means I don’t know what their vampire gifts are.
Where are Foxx and Rip? I say through our pack link. I quickly scan the field, my heart plummeting when I don’t see my mate. And where’s Tobias?
He ran off through the trees, Mom says.
He what?!
Focus, Rowen! Forest snarls.
The pack spreads out, teeth bared and ears pinned back.
Jericho stands in the middle, holding two fireballs.
Evan is braced beside him, his gun ready.
On the opposite end of the field, Kaine steps out of the trees, his fingers curved toward the ground as if calling water.
Willow flanks him, eyes sharp and fangs deadly.
All around, from every corner of the yard, wolves creep forward. Every shade, every size. There are over eighty of us, against nine of them.
The air hums as if waiting.
Orem lifts his head, his mouth twisting into a sick version of a smile. “We don’t want a massacre.” His voice carries easily on the night air. “Give us Jericho and Tobias, and no one gets hurt.”
A growl rises in my chest before I can stop it. Lying bastard. Hurting others is all these people are capable of.
Neal and Taren prowl closer, lips curled.
“We know the human is here,” Orem says. “Call him out or we will.”
He must still think Toby is in the house, then. I can only hope he keeps running. But seriously, where is Rip?
Subtly, I tip my nose to the sky. Our two hawk allies circle overhead, but no ravens. They have to be close, though. Rip wouldn’t miss his chance to get Tobias.
Jericho steps forward, rolling a fireball in his palm. “You have no claim over us.”
Orem laughs. “That’s where you’re wrong, vampire.”
Jericho throws a fireball, which Orem quickly blocks. It careens left, smashing into a tree. The ground seems to shake as he shouts something, and the clearing explodes into chaos.
Two vampires blur forward—twice as fast as normal vampires.
They streak through the smoke like ghosts.
The wolves surge to meet them, colliding in a mix of claws, teeth, and blood.
Snarls and screams pierce the night. Flashes of red and golden fire streak everywhere like dangerous strobe lights, singeing trees and narrowly avoiding the house.
I dive into the fray. My jaws find flesh on the first vampire, and the taste is bitter and metallic.
The woman thrashes against me, digging her sharp nails into my pelt, but I bite deeper, feeling bone give beneath my teeth.
Another slams into my side, sending me tumbling.
I roll and lunge again, ripping through a vampire’s leg.
They’re fast, but they’re outnumbered. For every one of them, ten wolves strike back.
Then the ground shifts.
Orem’s voice booms across the clearing—low and resonant, words thick with power. Yelps of pain echo from the center as magic singes our paws. I shake it out as the air flickers. For a second, the forest warps, bending in and out of itself like a heat mirage.
What is this?
Forest’s voice reaches me first. Transport magic.
“Stay alert!” Jericho shouts, as if recognizing the portal energy. “More are coming!”
Through violent red portals, a dozen more vampires appear, jumping right in. One has arms like swords. Another has a long snout with razor-sharp teeth. They look less like vampires and more like experiments gone horribly wrong.
A vampire near me grabs a wolf by the throat and tears it open before Kaine’s water ropes lash around him, crushing his skull. Kaine jerks his hand and another vampire’s head snaps to the side with a wet crack.
The smell of burnt flesh mixes with blood and earth. My ears ring from the noise, yet above us, I swear I hear something. Peering up, my heart somersaults when I see the hawks in an aerial battle with two ravens.
Rage burns through me, and my vision sharpens. Rip is here!
Lunging at a vampire, I sink my teeth into its throat and tear it apart. Ivy yelps nearby but gets right back up.
Under it all, a ripple of energy tugs at me, becoming stronger with every second. A pulse of something I know.
No. Not something. Someone.
My head jerks toward it, instinctive.
A small red shape bolts out of the trees, fast as lightning.
It moves low and silent until it hits the first vampire, climbing its back and ripping the vamp’s throat clean open.
It leaps off the vampire’s shoulders before he collapses, hitting another vampire with just as much force.
That one twists and tries to grab the creature by the tail, but misses.
The tiny animal, barely larger than the vampire’s head, yanks an ear off before biting his face and throat. The vampire screams.
My mind struggles to make sense of it.
A fox?
Not just any fox.
My heart knows that fox.
Tobias. I feel him through our tether—recognition, shock, terror. It’s him. That little creature with a furry tail is my mate.
That little creature is also going wild.
The scent of blood seems to drive him feral. He attacks a third vampire, shredding through flesh as if it were paper. He dives under their swings and darts between legs like fire incarnate. His fur is slick with blood, his eyes almost glowing.
He can’t seem to sense friend from foe, though. He lunges for wolves too, digging his teeth into their hind legs like he’s acting on pure adrenaline.
Evan yells, “Tobias, stop! That’s one of ours!”
But he doesn’t stop, biting into another gray wolf. Blood spurts from the wound as it yelps.
Chaos detonates around him. Wolves scatter to avoid getting bitten, clearly confused. The fox’s blood-soaked fur glints under the firelight. He’s beautiful, and wild, and mine.
Then the air changes, and I get a whiff of copper and decay from above.
The hawks cry again, shrill and piercing. A warning.
I look up just in time to see both ravens diving for the yard, their wings tucked and falling surprisingly fast for common ravens.
A fireball collides with one of them, killing it instantly.
The other raven shifts just before hitting the ground—a streak of dark skin and beaded dreads.
His naked body has two deep gashes along the back, but his shoulders are loose as he scans the field.
Even with his back to me, I know it’s Rip.
Jericho hurls a fireball at him, but misses. Rip leaps to the left, roaring. He snags a wolf mid-leap and throws it to the ground.
“Where’s Tobias?” he shouts.
A ripple of anger burns through me hotter than anything I’ve ever known.
This man is responsible for everything that has happened to Tobias.
For manipulating him into a deal, chaining him to a stage, and burning a dangerous mark into his arm.
Every painful moment Tobias has endured has been because of him.
It’s time he pays.
My claws cut into the cold earth as I lunge, putting all my strength behind it. He staggers forward under my weight, toppling to his knees. He swings low, scraping my flank. I bite into his shoulder, tearing muscle away.
The sound that escapes him is anything but human—warped and wrong, like it came straight from hell.
He spins under me, clawing into my side with long, dark nails. His strength is monstrous, but I bite again and again. He grabs a handful of fur, yanking hard enough to tear it from my skin. I gnash my teeth, snapping at his face. He drives a knee into my ribs.
The blow is devastating. I wheeze and claw at him, drawing blood.
Rip’s eyes darken with hate before he laughs, a sick unearthly sound that makes my hackles rise. “I’m going to guess you’re the mate.”
He throws me off, but I twist midair and land low, tail bristling. Blood mats my fur, and my side throbs where he punched me. We circle each other, fangs bared. When he lunges, I meet him halfway.
We crash together in a violent fury, claws and teeth tangling.
Two wolves scatter out of the way as we roll, dirt and ash flying up around us.
I tear more flesh away, earning a piercing cry from Rip.
He punches again; I bite his arm. He elbows my ribs; I rake his back.
Every hit is backed with impossible force, stealing a little more air from my lungs.
He’s stronger. Faster. And moons above, I think he’s enjoying this.
He lands another blow to my side that sends stars bursting behind my eyes. I stagger, and he seizes the moment, stepping behind me and wrapping his arms around my ribs. My chest caves under the pressure, the air exploding from my lungs.
With little effort, he hauls me upright, my back to his chest. I thrash, but his grip only tightens. Pain explodes everywhere.
Rowen! Ivy screams.
A fireball lands at our feet, but Rip easily sidesteps it. His teeth sink into my shoulder, tearing a piece of it away.
“You actually thought you could defeat me?” he sneers.
I snarl, but it comes out strangled.
Another squeeze—another rib snaps. The sound is sharp, wet, and final.
My vision goes white, and everything fades except the sound of his breath on my ear. “You never should’ve touched him, pup.”
As the third rib cracks, I let out a terrible cry, pain lancing down my spine.
“Where is he?” Rip says. “Tell me, and this ends now.”