Kian
Just like thenight when Quinton nearly executed our mate with a bullet to the head, I don’t hesitate.
I’m in the air a split second after my old alpha’s paws have left the dirt. I intercept his leap and slam into him in mid-air, angling so that I hit his head with my chest. He’s so massive that it feels like a rock wall slamming into me, and I huff out a pained breath. If I were any smaller or weaker, I have no doubt his skull would have broken a few bones in my torso.
Quinton flies away from me while I fall to the ground, winded. I barely manage to land on all fours as he skids away from me, kicking up dirt and stones and clumps of grass. All around me, chaos breaks loose as the Silver Crest wolves and Blood Moon pack launch into an all-out war.
In the very short half second I have before Quinton stands, I glance around and consider our odds. We’re on Felicity’s turf now, and there are more of us physically than there are of them. Both will give us an advantage. Unfortunately, they have way more shadow wolves than we do, which levels the playing field a little too much for my comfort.
Then they’ve got Quinton, leveled up with every shadow he could force into his body until he’s nothing but power and rage. Between that, his dark magic, and the army of newly turned feral shifters, I’m not confident we’ll come out on top here.
That doesn’t mean I’m going to give up though. If there’s one thing Quinton taught me in the years he held sway over me, it’s that failure is never a fucking option.
Quinton rushes me, furious and howling with a sound that seems more like a guttural scream than a wolf’s growl.
The thing about blind rage is that you can’t aim well with it. It’s a loaded cannon, raw gunpowder in a house fire, capable of exploding but not being controlled.
Using that to my advantage, I sidestep Quinton’s attack and whip around, slamming my hind end into his as he passes me. He pitches forward, stumbling a little, but rights himself quickly.
This time, he doesn’t leap at me right away. He circles back to peer at me, his back arched and his head low like he’s stalking me.
Like I’m prey.
Fuck that. I’m nobody’s prey.
My muscles tense, my lips drawing back in a snarl as my hackles rise. I’m ready to fight my old alpha to the death, right here, right fucking now. But as we circle each other, surrounded by the yips and howls of battle, a flicker of something glints in his blue eyes.
Fear.
He drops back a little, and as he does, several of his newly made shadow shifters leap forward to attack, bounding toward me with their fangs bared.
Coward!I yell, ducking the blow of a heavy paw as I turn my attention toward the new threat.
As strong as Quinton is now, he knows I’m strong too. And he clearly isn’t interested in a fight where the odds are even. Where he’s not guaranteed a win. So he sent his fucking minions after me instead.
Snapping and snarling, I take out my frustrations on the shadow filled beasts who used to be my pack mates—if I could ever really call them that. They never liked me when they were in their right minds, and now that they’re filled with fury and violence, acting only on Quinton’s commands, the fact that we once belonged to the same pack hardly seems to matter.
From the corner of my eye, I catch sight of my brothers as they battle against more of Quinton’s shadow shifters. They’re holding their own all right, although both of them seem to have half an eye on their fight and half an eye on Amora.
She looks like a warrior wolf, breathtaking in her intensity and skill. I watch as she takes down a rival wolf twice her size, ripping out his throat with a wash of blood. That wolf is barely on the ground before she’s moved on to the next, helping one of Felicity’s shifters against a triad of enemies. She moves like water, all fluid grace.
I’ve seen this same kind of strength and determination in her before—the day she chased me down on her bike and kicked my ass in the woods outside Oscura. I respected her then, just a little, although I never would have admitted it.
Now… something swells inside my chest, something I don’t really recognize. Pride, maybe, with a hint of affection, or something… stronger?
Love?
A sharp pain in my flank drags my attention back to the fight, and I curse myself inwardly for letting my focus lag. Only Amora could do that to me during the heat of battle, but it’s something I can’t afford right now. I need to stay sharp.
I mow through two of the smaller shadow shifters with a few well-placed bites, tossing them around like puppets until their necks snap, then I launch myself toward a third. We slam into one another, and he growls, batting at my face with his large front paws. I use my head to swipe his paws away, then swing back to headbutt him.
Before I can finish the job, a startled yip from Amora chills my blood.
Fuck. She’s in danger.
I look away from my opponent, frantically searching for her in the crowd. The shadow wolf takes advantage of my momentary distraction and tackles me. We fall to the ground hard, and my head slams into the dry dirt.
But not before I see what’s caused Amora to cry out.
Shadows.
Not shadow shifters. Just shadows—like the ones Felicity once sent after us, the ones Quinton eventually gained control over.
I thought we killed all of them, but I was wrong.
They’re nearly indistinguishable from the dark of the night, but as I look closer, my eyes find them swarming the desert around us. Several have already reached our allies, latching on to them like leeches. But I know Felicity’s wolves can’t fight them.
And neither can Amora.
A dark form leaps toward her, and she yips again, whining desperately as she tries to evade the attack.
I buck against my opponent, tossing him off me with a growl. I follow him into a roll and clamp my teeth down on the back of his neck, giving a powerful snap of my jaws to sever his spine. Then I leave him crumpled on the ground and race toward her.
Frost has already reached her when I arrive. His sharp teeth are latched on to a giant shadow that seems to be completely enveloping her, obscuring her wolf from view entirely. Beneath the shadowy form, her claws scrabble for purchase at the ground.
Help,Frost orders me. This thing is too fucking strong. I’ve never felt a shadow like this one before.
Malix limps up, joining the two of us as we grab hold of the shadow and pull. I understand what Frost was talking about immediately. The thing feels like rubber in my teeth, more substantial than any other shadow I’ve ever touched before. It clings to Amora as if it has teeth, and it takes all our strength combined to rip the thing into three pieces. It dissipates in smoky pieces and disappears, revealing a wide-eyed, breathless Amora clinging to the ground with her front paws.
There are deep grooves near her claws—as if she was somehow being pulled, even though we haven’t moved at all.
She gasps for air and stumbles to her feet, swaying a little. I press up against her side to help her steady herself as she gasps for breath.
What the fuck was that?She shakes her head, fear clear in her eyes. It was… it was trying to drag me down.
I blink at her. Before I can ask for clarification, we’re distracted by two new shadow wolves who throw themselves at us. Between the four of us, we manage to fend them off, working as a team to separate them and bring them down.
In the momentary reprieve as the shifters fall, Malix turns to Amora. What do you mean ‘dragging you down’?
It was like… She pauses, her lips pulling back from her teeth in a grimace. Like the shadow was pulling me away from this plane. Dragging me to the shadow realm. Is that possible? Can they do that?
Shit.Malix curses. I don’t know. I’ve never seen it happen, but that doesn’t mean it’s not possible. There’s still a lot we don’t know about the shadow realm, and the shadows themselves.
I exchange horrified glances with Frost, although of course his horror isn’t quite as plainly visible as I’m sure my own is. Even in wolf form, Frost has never been one to emote all that much.
If that shadow had succeeded…