CHAPTER 55
“I CAN’T HELP BUT FEEL SORRY FOR YOU, LENORE.” Winter’s gentle voice was like shrapnel digging through Lenore’s fur and deep into her skin.
Lenore’s heart pounded in her chest. She kept going, desperate to reach the rounded glass that was just above.
“Even with the full moon, you’re still hardly more than a Nyven. Can’t you see how much you’re struggling? I told you that you belonged with us, but you chose to die out with the rest of them. We—the Lucyn—have always been the true werewolves.”
A few more umbral thistles stood between her and the glass roof. Lenore’s breath grew more haggard as she pushed herself harder.
Amused chuckles rang from below her. Winter was probably at least halfway up now.
“If this was your way of escaping the battle, you really were never fit to be a werewolf. But I still see your use, Lenore… your blood will add to my strength. And for that, I’ll always appreciate you. ” Her smile stretched too wide.
Lenore’s legs burned fiercely as she leapt from one tendril to the last in one burst of adrenaline. Her claws scratched at the glass, leaving behind jagged marks.
Annoyance trickled into Winter’s voice. “Are you really ignoring me at a time like this? Shouldn’t you see how much I changed?”
Lenore shut her out. Securing a grip on the roof’s ledge, she then hoisted herself upward, leveraging the momentum to get over the glass incline.
Down below, she caught sight of Edmund and the others fighting Lunantha and Auden.
To her relief, she saw Varek and Cade with them. But her hope diminished quickly.
Lunantha’s rage screamed through the glass.
Auden’s bestial roars trembled the panes.
One of Lunantha’s tendrils slammed the pair to the side.
Auden slashed Edmund—the wound knitting back together under Azelf’s magic—but the sheer weight of the attack forced Edmund back.
The attacks remained relentless against the group, and there was only so much time before exhaustion burned their defense down to nothing.
Fallen werewolves from other packs lay strewn across the floor.
Forcing herself to look away, Lenore reached the top of the glass dome. The full moon bathed her in its light. She looked up, desperately praying that this would work.
“O, Great One Above, beyond the sea of clouds, and the Sovereign of the moon Himself,” she began to whisper hastily. “The Creator of all, I humbly ask that You bestow Your grace upon me. What Ieric asked for, I ask the same.”
Lenore heard Winter’s growling draw closer.
Her prayers grew more panicked. “Please, Great One, please. Lunantha is alive and there’s already been so much bloodshed—and my pack—my mate is in trouble—”
The glass crackled. Lenore glanced back and saw Winter barely some feet away. The red crescent burned brighter as her brown eyes filled with rage.
“Lenore, what are you doing?” she snarled out. “What’re you begging for? There’s no one to hear you! The Moon’s Sovereign will do nothing for you—”
Lenore jerked her head away. She half-sobbed as she screamed out, “PLEASE—”
Winter leapt closer. A spiderweb of cracks formed on the glass underneath her, zig-zagging through where Lenore stood.
“I CAN’T—I CAN’T DO THIS ON MY OWN! I NEED YOU!” Her desperate plea echoed across the land.
The moonlight that beamed downward brightened, as if beckoned to answer her from its Sovereign. Tiny particles of light began to form before her. Lenore’s eyes widened.
She reached out toward it just as Winter landed right behind her.
Lenore’s fist closed over the light as she whipped around. Winter lunged for her throat just as Lenore shifted back into human—claws ripping through the air where Lenore’s neck had been.
Shhk.
A deep slash of moonlight sliced through Winter’s thigh.
She staggered back slightly, shock flashing across her face as the light crackled through her wound and body—trapping her in place.
Winter’s eyes flickered downward, staring right into Lenore’s steeled gaze.
The crimson-stained werewolf’s claws twitched, roaring as she strained to slash Lenore.
The murderous rage in her eyes and the red crescent marked on her forehead told Lenore the hard truth.
She was gone.
Lenore’s human form flickered for a heartbeat—then she was a werewolf again, driving the blade deep into Winter’s chest. The tip of a moonlight sword gleamed from the other side of her.
“You...” Winter rasped.
Lenore yanked the sword back out, a brutally wet sound following. Winter staggered for a moment more, losing her balance on the rounded dome under their feet.
Winter’s gaze hollowed as her body tumbled off the glass, smearing it with streaks of red, before she fell far to the ground below. A resounding thud came after.
Lenore turned back to human form. She fell to her knees, breathing heavily as her bangs clung to her forehead with sweat. She sniffed, then urged herself to keep her composure.
Her head tilted up. Her eyes found brief solace up above, beyond the moon. Gratitude filled her heart as she offered silent words she knew the One Above could hear.
Thank you, Sovereign.
Lenore looked back down at the battle beneath her. She bit her lip before she stood up, the sword in her hands pointed downwards as she readied herself.
This is the fastest way.
Then she stabbed the glass as hard as she could. Glowing moonlight pulsed outwards and into fracturing cracks in the glass. She felt a shift of weight under her. Lenore readied the sword again. Once more she struck.
This time, the glass shattered in a million pieces.
A rain of glass shards poured into the depths below. Every head snapped up.
Lenore flew down amid the shimmering shards, gripping the sword tightly to her chest as she screamed out, “EDMUND!”