Archer steps up close to her and takes both of her hands in his. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m scared,” she admits.
Fuck, I love her honesty. She’s the most authentic person I’ve ever known. She’s not afraid to be vulnerable, and that makes her so much fucking stronger than people who boast about their bravery.
Archer pulls their entwined hands up to his chest, tugging her closer. “It’s okay to be scared. All the bravest people are.”
He leans in and kisses her, and I hold back to give them their private moment. When Archer steps away, Ridge takes over. He pulls her close, murmuring something about how she’s changed his life. Then Trystan swoops in and makes a dumb joke that makes her laugh. It strikes me how different we all are, and how our differences complement each other. How they all fit with a part of who Sable is.
We’re all part of one whole, and it’s pretty fucking amazing.
When it’s my turn to have a moment alone with my mate, I freeze up. I have no idea what to say. Hell, that speech I gave back at camp two days ago was as eloquent as I get, and I used up all my pretty words for the week doing that.
So I just kiss her. I kiss her soundly, with everything I have, so that she knows I’m here. I’ll always be here.
The shadow to her moonlight.
She kisses me back, the warmth and sweetness of her surrounding me for a moment as she wraps her arms around my neck, her body molding to mine.
Then, suddenly, a howl rises up from below.
I pull away from her, my heart racing.
The attack has begun.
27
Sable
I watch breathlessly as wolves stream across the sloping plain below our position. They move like phantoms in the slanted sunlight, legs pumping, fur billowing, the smaller groups moving in such fluid synchronicity that it almost looks like a dance. Their howls sound more like mournful cries, and it strikes terror through my heart. How many wolves will we mourn when this is over?
I’m tired of death. I’m tired of fighting. I just want to be with my mates.
This has to end today.
Once the wolves have made their presence known, it doesn’t take much more than a minute for the witches to catch on. Forms burst from the stronghold and spill out onto the plain, magic already billowing around them.
The two sides crash together like opposing waves until there’s nothing but chaos below.
I swallow hard and turn my back on the scene, hoping and praying that the shifters will be able to hold their own against the witches. Every day for the last three days, I’ve done a protection sigil over the entirety of our army to help them defend better against witch magic. I just hope it was enough.
As much as I want to watch and make sure they’re safe, I can’t focus on what’s happening below. Not if I want to play my part in this attack. Any minute now, Cleo’s going to come searching for me, and when she does, we’ll have our own battle to fight.
My mates walk forward to stand with me, the five of us standing in a tight circle. A soft breeze blows around us and rustles the underbrush. If not for the sounds of battle below, this place would be peaceful.
“Ready?” Dare asks quietly.
I nod, unable to form words around the lump in my throat. Then I brace myself and let down all of the barriers I’ve worked so hard to put up between me and Cleo. I open my mind fully to give her access.
She’s waiting for me.
I’m violently yanked from my body, and I give myself over to Cleo’s control without a fight. I hurtle through the bond into the astral realm, feeling as if I’m drowning in the coven leader’s fury.
My landing is rough. Instead of getting my feet under me at all, I hit the ground on my side in a blinding burst of agony.
My astral form rolls twice before I come to an abrupt and painful halt against a large chunk of rock that rises from the cave floor. Stars burst in my vision in a mimic of what would happen to my real body in the same situation. My gaze focuses on the ceiling of the cave, which seems farther away than I remember it being. In fact, the entire cave seems massive this time, much bigger than it’s been at any other meeting we’ve had.
She changed it, I realize. Just like I made adjustments to the mating cabin that my mates and I used as our landing place, she’s made adjustments to this incorporeal space, modifying it to suit her whims.