Chapter 9 - Freya
Freya
The force of Dryden’s magically enhanced alpha command hit everyone around me like a sledgehammer to their chests, reverberating through my bonds with my mates.
Their instincts screamed to drop, to bare their throats, to submit to the overwhelming dominance radiating from Heath’s father.
The magical amplification made it ten times stronger than any alpha bark should have been.
But it slid off me like water over a smooth slate stone.
My Odinswolf nature held firm against the compulsion, just like it always did. The command that brought every other wolf to their knees couldn’t touch me. Still, thanks to the bonds, I knew what the command demanded, and I let my body respond just like theirs.
Let’s pretend, I told my wolf, drawing on years of survival instincts honed in Ironwood. Let him think he’s won.
I pressed my white wolf form low to the ground, my head dropping in apparent submission.
Every line of my body language screamed defeat, just as I’d learned to do when Luka or his father had commanded me, though back then, I hadn’t even known I could shift.
Still, the performance came naturally after so many years of practice.
My mind stayed sharp and alert, noting everything I could see, smell, or hear. And through the bonds… my mates’ reactions showed me even more.
Zak’s confusion blazed through our connection first. Unlike Brielle and him, who had genuinely collapsed under Dryden’s enhanced command, I remained strong in the bond. I could sense his growing realization that something wasn’t right, that I wasn’t truly submitting like the other hybrids.
Flint’s panic and protective rage followed, his wolf snarling helplessly as Dryden’s magically amplified dominance kept even my alpha mate pinned like the subordinate Frost Fang wolves around him.
The fury in his alpha growl made my heart ache, but I was too busy taking stock of everything to reassure him.
If the opportunity presented itself, I would push my Odinswolf power over to Flint and Zak so they could shake off Dryden’s compulsion, but for now, I wanted the bastard to believe he’d won.
Gage’s initial shock and confusion hit me, followed by understanding.
He was weaving his way through the city to try to reach us now that Denraider had retreated, so he’d been well outside the blast radius of Dryden’s magical command.
Gage’s fierce pride bloomed through our mate bond, warming me even as I maintained my act.
But Heath’s anguish nearly broke my concentration.
He, along with Artemis and the Bloody Dawn, had been too far away to have been affected, but he’d seen us all obey.
His murderous fury toward his father burned like acid through our connection.
He barely noticed the other shifters around him as he raced toward our position, desperate to reach Zak and me before his father could.
I forced myself to stay focused, using the enhanced awareness my Odinswolf abilities gave me to assess the battlefield. One moment to launch a surprise attack might be all we had, and I needed to figure out how to best use it to our advantage.
Magistra Aliza and two other witches followed Dryden, their hands glowing with readied spells. The alpha approached with the swagger of a man who believed he’d finally won. His boots crunched on the frost-covered grass as he surveyed his prizes.
“Ah, the great Howling Echo, brought to heel by proper authority.”
His voice carried that same political charisma that had fooled so many shifters.
He gestured toward me, Zak, and Brielle with obvious satisfaction, speaking to his companions. “Three hybrids, just as promised.”
Aliza chuckled as she held up the yellow stone she’d crafted for me. “I’ll take their wolves, and then I’m sure Trella will be pleased to drain their power herself in the coming days.”
My blood turned to ice. The leader of the Ashworth Coven would bring even more witches with even more firepower when she arrived, and it sounded like our time might soon be up.
But right now, Dryden’s overconfidence would work to my favor. I was just about to act when Tor’s voice suddenly blazed through the Bonded link, urgent and desperate.
“She’s immune to alpha commands! Odinswolves can’t be compelled. She’s playing him.”
But his warning came a heartbeat too late.
The sound that tore from Heath’s throat wasn’t quite human. His protective instincts burst like an overflowing dam, overriding every tactical thought in his head.
“NO!” he roared, shifting mid-leap as he launched himself at his father.
The three witches flanking Dryden reacted instantly to Heath’s charge, their hands flaring with deadly intent.
Blue witchfire crackled from Aliza’s fingers, while the second conjured other flames that burned an unnatural green.
The third lifted rocks from the icy ground, which hovered for a moment before surging toward my mate.
All three magics crashed into Heath’s silver-white wolf form simultaneously.
Through our mate bond, I felt each spell as though it struck my own flesh — stones pummeling his flesh and breaking his bones as flames burned away fur and blistered skin.
The impact sent him tumbling across the frozen ground, his beautiful fur smoking and matted with blood.
A high-pitched whine escaped him as he struggled to rise again.
His pain exploded through our mate bond, so sharp and immediate that I nearly broke character. My wolf howled inside me, demanding I protect what was mine — and it was met by Gage’s howl over the pack bond. The fierce, primal need to defend our shared mate overrode every other instinct.
I fought down my wolf’s urge to go completely feral.
In that split second, as Heath’s agony pulsed through our bond, I found myself at a crossroads.
Part of me — the part that had survived Ironwood’s cruelty, that had learned to fight and claw for every scrap of dignity — screamed for Dryden’s death.
My wolf longed to tear out his throat, to watch the light fade from the eyes of the man who’d manipulated and hurt my mate for decades.
But even as rage built in my chest like a wildfire, Heath’s conversation with his sisters echoed in my memory. Harlow and Hazel had been clear when they’d warned Heath about their father’s political connections.
If Dryden died, it would cause chaos in Congress, affecting more than just our packs, but even states nearby. The supernatural balance of power would shift overnight, leaving our kind vulnerable to human legislation, fae encroachment, or worse — rule by witches like the Ashworth Coven.
As the Bloody Dawn attacked, the witches’ attention split. Several of them turned to face the new threat. Two broke away from Dryden’s side to counter the charge, their hands already glowing with deadly intent.
I could see Heath through the gap in their ranks, his silver-white fur matted with blood, but Aliza stood guard over him, her eyes flicking between me and Dryden. If I moved toward Heath, she’d strike. If I attacked Dryden, she’d finish Heath.
“Stay down, or I’ll finish what I started when I took your wolf,” she warned.
Thatcher’s black wolf form tore through the line of witches, creating enough confusion for Lee to slip past and reach Heath. His tawny wolf nudged Heath, trying to help him up, while Thatcher kept the other witches at bay. Aliza turned to deal with them both.
Perfect. The distraction I needed.
My wolf demanded I protect my mate, but my human side knew I needed to neutralize Dryden without killing him.
Reaching deep, I drew power from all six of my Bonded.
Even across the impossible distances, I felt Rowan’s feral strength and Tor’s Odinswolf power flowing into me.
Zak’s witch abilities braided with my own.
Gage’s and Flint’s alpha dominance and unwavering belief anchored me.
And Heath’s pain fueled my determination.
My vision shifted, the world transforming before my eyes.
Colors deepened and sharpened until they almost hurt to look at, while an overlay of luminous magic appeared — pack bonds, mate bonds, Bonded links…
and the bond between every shifter on the battlefield to their wolf selves.
Each pulsed with a unique signature: some vibrant with alpha power, others weaker but no less vital, all of them anchored deep within their beings.
I’d seen this once before, when I’d gone feral during my heat and nearly torn Luka’s shifting magic from him. Back then, the vision had been blurred by rage and instinct. I’d been fumbling in the dark, grasping at power I didn’t understand, ultimately too weak on my own to finish what I’d started.
Now, with Zak’s patient teaching and my own growing confidence, I could see the complex tapestry of magic with perfect clarity.
The combined power of six mates flowed through me, setting every nerve ending alight.
The taste of it filled my mouth — metallic like blood, sweet like nectar, crisp like the first snow of winter, full of potential.
Focusing my attention, the magical essence of Dryden’s wolf appeared to my enhanced sight like a dark cord wrapped around his heart, pulsing with an oily, corrupted glow that revealed his twisted nature. Ambition and cruelty had tainted his bond with his beast.
And I now had the power to severe that link forever.
In that moment, my mates realized what I was planning.
Their shock gave way to something fiercer, as they each lent me their power, fully on board.
Maybe I should have pushed some of that power to Flint and Zak so they could rise with me, but something told me I would need every drop of magic for what I had planned.
Flint poured his strength into me without hesitation or fear. Where the others reacted with surprise, his love and trust remained absolute and unwavering.