Davina (The Immortal Prophecy 3)

ROANE

“This is ridiculous.”

Saren appeared next to Roane, who was perched in a tree and watching as five Benshire wolves were combing the trees a mile away. They were doing what he and the Christane wolves had already done. They arrived at the river three days earlier. On the other side were the Mori lands, but a protection spell was cast as soon as they tried to cross the water. Two wolves exploded in thin air and since then, no one ventured across. Because they couldn’t move forward, Roane and the Christane wolves set up their camp and scouted their perimeter. They arrived three days ahead of the Benshire wolves and the Romah vampires. It was why Roane was in place and was disguised when the Benshire wolves would move underneath him.

He shot Saren a dirty look. “I’m trying to hide here.”

She waved a hand and snapped her fingers. Immediately, Roane felt the difference. They were blanketed in place. It was like being on the inside of an invisible plastic bubble, but the plastic was rock solid. He asked, “What is this?”

“I shielded us. We can talk. They won’t hear us, smell us, or see us.”

“It’s like a cloaking spell?”

“Cloaking is harder. This one was easier, takes less of my strength to keep it up, but if the wolves try to climb this tree, they’ll know we’re here.”

“The plan is to sneak behind and kill them, one by one.”

She nodded. “I’ll wait until they move far enough ahead. We can both slip behind them.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re going to help?”

She’d been absent for the last week of their trip. Once Wren arrived, Saren disappeared. Roane didn’t know why and he wasn’t the only one who realized it. Christian asked one night as well, but Roane couldn’t tell him the reason. He had a feeling it had something to do with Davy, but he wasn’t sure, and he didn’t know if he even wanted to ask.

“Are you asking me why I’ve been gone?”

“I guess I am, yeah.”

Two Benshire wolves were almost directly underneath them. Roane’s instincts quieted him, but he knew the spell would protect them. Davy’s magic was strong, and he knew Saren was connected to the same power. The other three wolves spread farther down. They were all in one line, a hundred yards between each of them. The other three wouldn’t react fast enough. He could jump down and take care of both wolves before they’d be on him, but he still waited. One paused to sniff the tree where he sat.

He met Saren’s gaze. She had quieted as well and was watching alongside him. He asked in his head, “Does that spell protect my trail as well?”

When there was no answer, he had the answer.

Roane nodded to himself. It was time. He reached and pulled out one of his daggers. It would do better in such close quarters against an enemy.

Then, Saren held up her fingers. She counted down, from three . . . two . . . on one, the air exploded. The spell was lifted and both leapt down from their spots. The wolf reacted too late. He’d been too startled.

As soon as he realized they were there, Roane was already in front of him. Saren landed behind him, and as the wolf glanced back, taking note of his surroundings, Roane plunged his dagger into his heart.

It was an instant death, but as quick as they were on this wolf, the second was on them. Roane had enough time to pull the dagger out and turn around. The second wolf was in the air and leaping onto him. Before its claws and teeth could pierce him, Saren slammed into it from the side. The two fell onto the ground and rolled once, then twice before coming to a stop, but Roane didn’t wait. He wasn’t watching as a bystander. He leapt in the air with them and as soon as they came to a stop, he waited long enough for Saren to roll free from the wolf before he was on the wolf’s back. It reared up, trying to pull him off, but it couldn’t. Roane was too fast. His hand went back as he plunged the dagger into another wolf. This time he was coming from the back so he used his entire body strength and weight to drive the dagger all the way into the body, ripping through skin, cartilage, and organs.

Roane held on, pushing it into the wolf, who was wriggling around. The wolf was trying to dislodge Roane, but he held on. He was vulnerable, though, and seeing his situation, Saren readied on her feet.

She drew her sword and braced because the other three wolves were coming. They were moving at a faster speed than normal, and they were on them before she could blink a couple times.

A silver-maned one leapt right at her. His mouth was open and his fangs ready. The other two, an all black-haired one and another black with a white strip running from under his head and down his torso, went for Roane, but as she swung the sword up and sliced across the wolf’s nose, one of them turned to help. There were now two against Saren and one trying to bite into Roane, to pull him off.

Saren couldn’t help him.

She swung the sword, but it only grazed across the silver wolf. He pulled his head back in time, but recoiled in pain.

Roane had been watching and he saw the smoke that rose from the silver wolf’s gaping hole.

The sword was spelled as well. He didn’t know with what, but he didn’t care. Then, he was brought back to attention when the white-striped wolf bit into his back—or tried. Roane saw the teeth coming and yanked out his dagger. He couldn’t keep pushing for the heart. Pulli

ng his weapon free, he swung it at the striped wolf. It did the same as Saren’s sword. It only grazed the wolf, who pulled back in time.

Roane fell to his feet and rounded.