Chapter 29
Axel’s words came out as a snarl, barely human. His wolf was so close to the surface he could feel fur prickling beneath his skin, claws already extended.
Blackthorn whirled, gun still pointed at Rebecca. His eyes—glowing silver with some kind of enhancement spell—widened in surprise before narrowing with calculation.
But Axel only had eyes for her. His mate. Pale and trembling, angry red marks on her wrists, fear-scent thick in the air. And beneath it—he could no longer smell the scent that marked her as a witch. Which meant…
A pit formed in his stomach. Had she used her magic to protect herself? Because he hadn’t been there to protect her like he should have been?
It was his duty—his honor—to protect her from arseholes like this. And…
He’d failed.
He’d arrived at The Roost a few minutes before 7pm, only to find shattered windows and Iris sobbing on the floor. She’d been shaking, babbling about Blackthorn taking Rebecca. “I didn’t mean—he said she belonged with him and that I was better off with you—I just wanted—“
He’d questioned her briefly. Found out that Blackthorn needed her for something. “He took a device out of her bag. It wasn’t a phone.”
“A GPS unit?”
“I… I don’t know. I think he was planning to take her somewhere. To get something. He… He didn’t tell me.”
But Axel already knew. He was already running from the building.
He’d called the sheriff while peeling out of his parking spot.
Left Iris there. Raced back to his property.
Shed his clothes and transformed into his wolf form.
He’d barely had the mental foresight to grab the bundle before taking off into the forest.
The unfamiliar UTV sitting outside the cave’s entrance told him everything he needed to know. That somewhere in there, Blackthorn had Rebecca. And he needed to get to her.
There’d been a brief moment after he’d shifted back into his human form, after he’d dressed and raced into the depths of the cave, when he’d panicked.
The walls had pressed in around him the moment he’d entered. His breaths had come faster, his chest beginning to constrict. The darkness, the stone, the memories—
But then he’d reminded himself why he was doing this.
All of it faded into background noise after that. There was only one thing that mattered. Rebecca.
“Well if it isn’t the mongrel himself.” Blackthorn’s voice dripped with disdain. “How nice of you to join us.” He shifted, keeping the gun trained on Rebecca while keeping his gaze on Axel. “You’re too late. The knife is mine.”
“Doesn’t look like it from here.” Axel took a step into the chamber, muscles coiled. The lunarium formations cast eerie shadows across the space. “Looks like you can’t even touch it—or you’d already have it.”
Blackthorn’s jaw tightened. “A temporary setback.”
“Is that what you call failure now?” Another step. “All that power. All those threats. And you still need a gun.”
“I need insurance.” Blackthorn’s glowing eyes flicked between Axel and Rebecca. “Against unpredictable animals.”
“Then you should have brought a bigger gun.” Axel’s lips pulled back, showing teeth. Not quite human anymore now that his canines had elongated. “Because I’m going to rip you apart for laying a finger on what’s mine.”
“Yours?” Blackthorn laughed, sharp and cruel. “She’s not yours, wolf. She never will be. The moment I break her curse—“
“You aren’t breaking shite,” Axel interrupted. “If anyone breaks that curse, it will be Rebecca. Because she’s brave and strong. And she will never be yours. You don’t deserve her. You’re just a piece of shite. One I’ll be wiping the floor with soon enough.”
Blackthorn’s face flushed with anger. “You think you can take me?”
“I know I can.” Axel crouched slightly, ready to spring.
“Axel—“ Rebecca’s voice was small and scared.
“It’s all right, sweetheart.” He didn’t take his eyes off Blackthorn. “I’ve got you.”
“How touching.” Blackthorn sneered. “A feral wolf and the cursed witch. What a pair you make.”
“Better than a pathetic gobshite who drugs women and waves guns around.”
Blackthorn’s finger twitched on the trigger. “Careful, mongrel.”
“Or what? You’ll shoot me?” Axel spread his arms slightly. “Go ahead. Won’t stop me from tearing your throat out. Might slow me down. But it won’t stop me. Not unless you got a healthy dose of iron in those bullets.”
“Care to test the theory? Why don’t I give you a bullet right between the eyes?”
For a heartbeat, neither moved.
Then Blackthorn made his mistake. His eyes flicked to Rebecca for just a second—maybe to ensure she was still there, still under his control.
It was enough.
Axel launched himself forward with supernatural speed. The gun went off—a deafening crack in the enclosed space—but the bullet went wide, striking a lunarium formation. It exploded.
He hit Blackthorn like a freight train. They went down hard, rolling across the chamber floor. The gun skittered away into the darkness.
Blackthorn recovered fast. His hand shot out, palm glowing with sickly red light. “Foolish wolf.”
The magic hit Axel square in the chest.
Pain exploded through him. Not physical—worse. Like his blood was boiling, his bones grinding against each other from the inside. A familiar sensation he hoped to never feel again.
Blood magic.
Fuck.
This was the worst place to feel the familiarity of it. But he couldn’t afford to lose focus. Not when his mate was relying on him.
Blackthorn sent another blast at him.
He flew backward, slamming into the cave wall. Rock cracked under the impact. His vision went white.
“Did you really think you could best me?” Blackthorn was on his feet, both hands glowing now. “I’ve studied magic my whole life. You’re just a beast.”
Axel forced himself up, shaking his head to clear it. His ribs screamed. Probably broken. Healing already, but slowly. Too slowly.
“Big words,” he managed, spitting blood. “From someone who needs magic to fight.”
“Magic is power.” Another wave of Blackthorn’s magic lashed out.
Axel dodged, faster this time. The magic carved a chunk out of the wall where he’d been standing. He needed to keep Blackthorn focused. Keep him distracted.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rebecca moving. Slowly. Carefully. Toward the knife.
Good girl. Smart girl—his mate.
“Is that the best you’ve got?” Axel taunted, circling. “No wonder she left you. Can’t even fight like a man.”
“I am more than a man.” Blackthorn’s face twisted with rage. “I am a blood witch. Heir to—“
“A coward’s legacy?” Axel lunged left, making Blackthorn turn. Away from Rebecca. “Hiding behind magic because you’re too weak without it.”
“Weak?” The word came out strangled. Blackthorn’s hands blazed brighter. “I’ll show you weak.”
The next spell caught Axel mid-dodge. It wrapped around him like chains, invisible but crushing. His bones creaked under the pressure. He dropped to one knee, snarling.
“Not so fast now, are you?” Blackthorn stalked closer. “Not so cocky.”
Axel’s vision tunneled. The pressure was immense, forcing the air from his lungs. But he could still smell her. Rebecca. Moving. Almost there.
“You wanted to protect her?” Blackthorn was right in front of him now, looking down with those glowing eyes. “You can watch me take her instead. Watch me drag her back to Walton. Marry her. Break her. And there’s nothing you can—“
A sound cut through the chamber. A gasp.
Rebecca.
The scent of her blood hit him. Fresh. Sharp. Coppery and sweet.
Light exploded.
Blinding and impassable. He could see nothing for just that split second. Then, the pressure around him vanished. The magical chains dissolved.
He looked up in time to see it.
Rebecca, the witchbone knife in her hands. Blood running down her palm where she’d cut herself. And the energy—bloody hell. The energy pouring off her in waves. Gold and white and blinding.
A frantic laugh burst from his chest. She’d done it. She’d fucking done it!
And he’d never been more fucking proud in all his life—
Blackthorn screamed, his body contorting as if in pain. Rebecca watched, lips parted in shock as the male witch convulsed. Then his body fell still.
For a moment, Blackthorn didn’t move. Then he pushed to his hands and knees, breathing hard. When he looked up, his eyes were filled with hate. “What the fuck did you do?” The words were hoarse. “What the fuck did you do, Rebecca?”
Axel growled, trying to stand up, ignoring the way his ribs screamed in agony.
“I didn’t…” Rebecca looked between her bloodied palm and Blackthorn.
“You took my fucking magic, you bitch!” Blackthorn roared and surged to his feet. Then he charged Rebecca. She simply stood, eyes wide. Like she couldn’t believe what was happening.
Axel surged forward. He didn’t think. Didn’t care. All he knew was that the threat to his mate was right there. And every instinct screamed to end him.
Axel hit Blackthorn at full speed just before he reached Rebecca.
They went down together in a tangle of limbs, but this time there was no magic to blast him away.
For whatever reason, whatever had happened, Blackthorn didn’t fight back with anything beyond his physical abilities.
As if he was just a man—weak, mortal, prey.
“Wait—!” Blackthorn tried to scramble backward, hands scrabbling against the stone floor. “I can still—“
He didn’t finish whatever he was about to say. Couldn’t do anything but gasp for air as Axel’s teeth elongated, his face beginning to shift. Then he clamped his mouth around Blackthorn’s throat and bit down into the soft, mortal skin.
Blood. Hot and copper-sweet, filled his mouth. Then came the wet sound of tearing flesh as he pulled away, ripping out his throat.
Blackthorn’s eyes went wide, mouth opening in a silent scream as he died.
He twitched and gurgled, then went still.
Axel got to his feet and stood over the body, chest heaving. The chamber was silent except for his ragged breathing.
The wolf wanted more. Wanted to make absolutely certain. Wanted to tear and rend until there was nothing left of the threat. Wanted Blackthorn’s body in pieces—
“Axel?”
Her voice cut through the red haze. Soft. Shaking. But alive.
His mate.
He turned.
Rebecca stood by the knife. It was on the floor now. Her hand was bleeding, dripping onto the stone. Her scent had changed. There was still the chamomile and honey he loved. But it was accompanied by something else. Something powerful and bright and wholly hers.
“Axel,” she said again. Her eyes were on him. On his bloodied face and chin. His extended claws, the patches of fur on his arms and neck. He must have looked like what Blackthorn accused him of.
A mongrel.
He waited. For fear. For disgust. For her to recoil from what he was. From what he’d done.
Instead, she took a step toward him. Then another.
“Are you…?” Her voice trembled. “Are you okay?”
The wolf receded. Slowly. His claws retracted with small bursts of pain. The fur faded back into skin. He was left standing there, just a man again. Bloodied. Broken ribs still healing. But otherwise unharmed.
“Aye,” he managed. His voice came out rough. Raw. “Aye, lass. I’m okay.”
“He’s...” She looked at the body, then back at Axel. Her face was pale, but her jaw was set. “Is he dead?”
“Aye.”
She nodded once. Processing. “Good,” she whispered. Then her eyes rolled back and her legs buckled.
Axel caught her before she hit the ground, ignoring the sharp protest from his ribs. She was light in his arms, unconscious but breathing. Her pulse fluttered against his throat where he pressed his fingers to check.
Alive. Safe.
His.
Even if only for a little while longer.
He took one more look around the cave’s chamber, then fled.