Chapter 30
ROWAN
There’s no time to breathe, no time to think. Elias’s warning is still echoing in the yard when the first shadow barrels out of the tree line. Then another. Then at least ten more.
The ground shakes beneath their boots and paws, the air alive with snarls and war cries. I don’t even know who they are yet—wolves, vamps, and heavy energy—but there are too many. Dozens, just like Elias said.
Liz’s daggers flash, steel catching the sun as she plants herself at my side. Cade is already in motion, a blur of lethal precision, his growl so deep it makes even the front line hesitate.
Archie surges, still in his Great Dane form, hitting a cloaked figure with enough force to send both of them tumbling across the dirt.
Iris mutters a curse so colorful the gods would blush, digging into her fanny pack.
“Knitting needles it is,” she announces grimly, yanking out an oversized wooden one and burying it in a vampire’s chest. He drops, and she jerks the needle free with a grunt.
“You have to love a multi-purpose tool.”
Seconds are all we have.
I don’t have the luxury of easing into this fight.
Training drills vanish from my mind. There’s only instinct—the rush of claws, the sting of fists, the burn of fear licking up my spine.
I duck under a wild swing, my own returning punch landing harder than I expect, sending a man twice my size stumbling back with shock in his eyes.
The air hums against my skin, a warning. One fiery and dangerous, like the heat that filled my hand last night and again when I hurt Liz.
Not now, I beg myself. Not here, not with everyone watching. Don’t become the prophecy.
But the power is restless, prowling just under the surface, hungry to be used. And with every enemy pouring in around us, I’m less and less sure I can keep it locked away.
Still, I have to try.
The yard is chaos—shouts, metal, the heavy crash of bodies. For every one we knock down, three more push out of the trees, filling the clearing with teeth and rage.
Then I see them.
Wolves. At least six of them, their eyes glinting unnatural silver. Their growls rumble through the ground as they break formation, charging straight for Cade and me.
My wolf surges inside me, snarling, furious. I don’t hesitate.
Shift, she demands.
The transformation rips through me, bones snapping, fur spilling across my skin. The world sharpens in an instant—scents slicing clean, sounds deafeningly close, every heartbeat pounding against my ears.
Beside me, Cade explodes into his massive russet wolf, a living wall of muscle and fury, and together we meet the charge head-on.
The first silver-eyed wolf barrels into me, all weight and fang.
I roll with the impact, jaws snapping—fur and teeth meeting, but no flesh.
My wolf drinks it up; she loves this, the rawness of it, the perfect violence.
I rake claws across the beast’s flank, but before I can finish him, another crashes into my side.
Dirt fills my mouth; blood sings hot under my tongue, and I shove up, lungs burning.
Cade is a catastrophe of teeth and muscle—two of them gone with one brutal swipe, their bodies flying like rag dolls. His snarl uncoils across the yard, a sound that makes attackers hesitate long enough to give us breath.
That breath lets me see the rest of them.
Liz is a blade in motion, daggers an extension of bone and intent. Every cut clean, every stance economy of movement—grim, precise, terrifying.
Archie plows through the commotion, flattening a cloaked man under his weight and dragging him off as if he’s tossing a sack of grain.
Elias, sand-furred and feral, tears an arm from a would-be attacker and ducks back in for another like these people are nothing more than snacks for him.
And Iris—freaking Iris. I didn’t consider before that she’s not supernatural, but that doesn’t stop her. She stands away from the fight, but has her fanny pack wide open, pulling out a handful of glittering powder.
“Plan B, assholes!” she shouts, hurling it in a vampire’s face. He screeches, clawing at his eyes as he stumbles backward, shimmering like he lost a fight with a children’s craft box.
Even in the middle of battle, I almost want to laugh.
Maybe we’re going to come out of this mostly unscathed…
But then another wave surges out of the trees. More shadowed figures. More wolves. Too many supernaturals everywhere. The ground trembles beneath their weight, and the space feels suddenly too small, too fragile to hold the storm pouring into it.
The warmth returns. Though it’s not as potent as earlier. Maybe I can control it, and using it won’t be so bad.
…but what if I can’t?
I know you’re scared, but whatever is inside us, I think we need it, my wolf says as she charges for another opponent.
Not yet, I force out. Not unless I have no other choice.
Our surroundings are a battlefield of snarls and screams, but for a moment, I force myself to see more than just the blur of enemies.
I have a real family here. People who are fighting to the death for…me. I may not ever know why Mom kept me from this place, but I’m sure as hell glad I found my way here.
Cade’s snarl is a comforting sound that makes me realize he’s much closer to me than at the start of the attack. His presence helps put my attention back on what’s most important right now—staying alive and watching each other’s backs.
He’s a storm at my side, his wolf cutting through enemies with terrifying grace. He doesn’t falter, doesn’t hesitate. But I see the way his gaze keeps flicking toward me, protective and worried, as if he’s checking every heartbeat that I’m still here and fighting.
While I might not be as fast as my family, I can still do this.
Well, Wolf can.
She follows Cade’s movements, picking off those who try to pass by him. A fact that not only protects our mate’s back, but also keeps the fight away from Iris. Her emergency fanny pack might be saving her ass right now, but her mace and glitter will only last so long.
Wolf continues to take down other shifters, but even she doesn’t have endless energy.
I sense her steps getting slower and her breathing becoming ragged from the exertion. Let’s shift back, I tell her. Give yourself a break, and I’ll take on some of the others.
Most of the wolves are gunning for Cade anyway, but there are vamps mixed in. I should—hopefully—be fast enough to handle some of them in my human form. Unless Liz’s been taking it easy on me this whole time, and I’m about to learn the hard way.
Just a little while longer, Wolf pants, lunging low for the underbelly of a gray wolf. Her claws sink in, crimson spraying, but she’s too slow to dodge the counter. Blood spatters across her muzzle, blinding and slowing her further.
I know what we should do next, but that’s when the obvious, stupid problem hits me.
I’ll have no clothes.
If I shift back, I’ll be standing naked in the middle of a battlefield. Naked. With Cade near and in front of everyone.
He’ll lose his mind, and I can’t let him be distracted, increasing his chances of being taken down.
Wolf snarls in my head. I’ve got this.
But for every ragged inhale she manages, a claw or a bite drives her farther back, inch by inch, and away from Cade. He doesn’t notice yet—he’s buried under his own storm of enemies—but the distance between us gnaws at my chest.
The others are holding their own, but the waves don’t stop. They keep coming, more and more, until I feel like we’re drowning under their weight.
Helplessness begins to claw at me harder than any opponent we’re currently facing.
We’re going to be overrun, I realize, terror choking me. We can’t win. Not like this.
I reach for it then—that heat, that dangerous hum I’ve been doing my best to shove down since last night.
I don’t understand what it is, not really.
But it had to have something to do with the reason I killed a man using nothing more than a chair leg, and right now it’s the only option we have left, being this outnumbered.
Please, I beg myself. If it means saving them, I’ll risk it. Just show up.
But the warmth is gone. No matter how hard I grasp for it, no matter how wild my fear gets, it’s nowhere.
Because you’re not you, Wolf snarls, dragging us through another claw strike that rakes across our flank. We have to shift back.
My stomach drops. It’s not my first choice. It’s barely a choice at all. But I’ll do whatever it takes.
More howls cut through the night. Fine. Naked fighting, here we come.
With a break in our attackers, Wolf backs up to give us more room for the shift, but it seems to give the wrong impression to the others.
“Ro!” Liz’s voice cuts through the chaos, her mouth down turned. “We need to stick together!”
The words sting, because she likely thinks I’m running, but hopefully they’ll all understand in just a few moments.
Hell, hopefully I will.
This is a risk, but it’s one my gut is telling me we need to take.
Especially as Wolf’s steps begin to falter.
The shift back to human is agony. Pain tears through bruised muscles and raw skin; the motion of changing feels like being undone at the seams, even worse than the first time.
I grit my teeth and bite past it, drawing on whatever mysterious thing lives beneath my ribs because we have no other choice.
I hear more shouts and louder snarls, but my vision blurs, and I’m on the ground when the shift is finally complete.
What have I done?
Everything fucking hurts.
Wolf tries to say something, but I don’t hear her above Cade’s roar.