Chapter 23 #3
“They’re incredible.” I reached my hand back for his and squeezed. “I didn’t build any of this, though. I got lucky, and these amazing people all sort of coalesced around me.”
“You’re the fulcrum,” he whispered against my throat. I shivered as the heat of his breath tickled the sensitive side of my neck. “The pivot point around which we all turn.”
“You’re overstating my importance,” I said.
“Baby, if anything, I’m downplaying it.” He whispered his next words into the kiss he left on my shoulder. “You’ve got this. I believe in you.”
Even with magic brewing and dirt flying and the threat of death hanging over me like Damocles’s fabled sword, one look in his eyes and it was just the two of us. Surrounded by many, we were alone, two people on an island that no one else could see.
“I love you,” I said.
“I love you,” he said.
The chanting grew louder, drawing our attention back to it. A strident male voice broke free of the chant to yell, “Now!”
The entire back row bent at the waist and slammed their hands into the dirt at the same time. Crusty clods of alkali and powdery poofs of dust burst from the soil, rose into a tidal wave, and arced toward me.
“Oh, no,” I said, and pretended to yawn. “Whatever will I do?”
Ronan and Bronwyn laughed. Even Mason chuckled.
As our enemies assailed us with my element, Ronan pulled up beside me, shoulders hunched, head forward and down. The smallest of smiles tilted his lips as he lunged, shedding his human form in a finger-snap airborne move.
The resolve in his eyes, the fluid transition from man to wolf, the force of his most dangerous form slamming into the ground beneath my feet on four enormous paws—no one on the other side was getting out of this alive as long as he had breath in his body.
He ran headfirst into the wave, Mason beside him.
They took down the magicals in the rear first. When the dirt wave fell, so did the spell holding back the rest of the wolves. The pack shifted the second Ronan did, and now they were idling like a traffic jam of cars that wanted nothing more than to break loose and blaze down the road.
I glanced at Bronwyn’s profile. Margaux’s.
Ida standing on the hood of her LTD commanding a bunch of roadkill.
The wolves behind me—veterinarians, mechanics, office workers. In the rear corner, lurked a familiar leopard, along with three rats and a small coyote.
As one, they looked to me. Their leader.
My partners were among them, safe, but only for now. I needed to send a message. The Org needed to understand that if they came for any of mine, they would suffer.
So far, their people had broken through the park’s protection spell and summoned a demon to attack me, tried to cast me into Hell, and kidnapped one third of my temporary coven. Sure, I’d won, but only by the skin of my teeth and the help of my father.
The Org had the kind of resources and power I couldn’t fight alone.
I made several decisions in that moment. None of them were choices I’d have made even twenty-four hours ago, but they were the right ones. They would keep my people safe.
“La Paloma wolves and allies.” I raised my voice, but I didn’t need to. They were hanging onto my every syllable. “I ask only this: Leave one survivor to tell the tale.”
My words were met with yips and howls and enthusiastic growls. Their excitement was palpable. They were ready.
“Take them down,” I said.
The shifters launched themselves at the small army of paranormals—furred bodies rolling over each other, teeth snapping, blood painting their muzzles and forepaws.
The alpha voice had come without effort, but not by accident. Whatever magic linked me to the pack had interpreted my intention, as had the chains in the pocket dimension. As would the coven, my coven, once I made it permanent.
Margaux and Bronwyn both jerked. They looked at me, questioningly. The coven bonds were more perceptive than I’d thought.
“Making the coven permanent is the best way to keep them all safe, isn’t it?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
They nodded; however, we weren’t so in sync that I could read their thoughts, or even their emotions.
Would they agree to this? Certainly Margaux would—the witch had proposed this months ago. Bronwyn was a different story. She’d seemed conflicted at times. I wouldn’t do this without her—couldn’t do it without her.
“Bronwyn?”
“Yes,” she said, her gaze hard as she surveyed the chaos in front of us. “I believe it’s for the best.”
Margaux took my left hand, Bronwyn took my right, and then they joined hands. We formed a witch circle on a bloody desert battlefield amid screams and howls. A chant and three spoken oaths made our coven permanent.
“For the protection of us all, and of those we love, we seal this pact,” I said.
“For the protection of us all,” they repeated solemnly.
The battle with The Org didn’t take long.
At one point during the fighting, Ronan had lifted his blood-soaked head to stare directly into my eyes. His mouth split into a wolfish grin, and I felt his approval through the bonds that linked me to the pack, and the ones that connected me directly to him.
For the protection of us all.