A heavy silence followed her words, broken only by the faint crackle of a fire in the hearth.
“We don’t have a choice,” Tyler said finally, his voice firm. “We still have to go to draheim and open the veils. If we don’t, our people stay trapped. We’ll deal with Raja if it comes to that.”
Synica nodded, though her stomach twisted with unease. She admired Tyler’s resolve, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were walking into something far worse than they realized.
The group was nearly ready to leave when the television on the far wall caught Synica’s attention. The muted news broadcast had shifted to breaking coverage, the bold red banner at the bottom of the screen declaring: TERROR IN THE UNITED STATES.
“Turn it up,” Tyler barked.
One of the fae moved quickly to unmute the TV, and the room filled with the frantic voice of a reporter.
“We’re live outside what remains of the White House, where an explosion has devastated the area. Reports indicate that this was no ordinary attack. Witnesses claim to have seen … creatures. Demons, some are calling them, wreaking havoc in the aftermath. Military personnel are struggling to contain the situation as … as?—”
The reporter’s voice broke off as the camera panned to the chaos behind her. Synica’s stomach turned at the sight. The once-pristine White House was a smoking ruin, its iconic pillars shattered and its roof caved in. Fires burned across the lawn, and the air was thick with smoke and ash. Screams echoed faintly through the broadcast, and the camera caught glimpses of creatures, twisted, monstrous forms with glowing eyes and slavering jaws, tearing through the terrified crowd.
Military personnel fired their weapons, but it was useless. Synica watched as a fae woman lifted her hand, the air around her shimmering as she pulled the guns from the soldiers’ hands with a flick of her wrist. A warlock sent a burst of fire spiraling toward a group of humans, who scattered, their screams piercing.
And then Synica saw them. At first, she thought they were humans, but then the camera zoomed in, and she caught the telltale glow in their eyes. Dormants. Humans with dormant supernatural bloodlines that had been awakened. They were young, barely more than teenagers, but they stood their ground, forming a circle around a helicopter on the lawn in front of the burning structure. And standing with them, interspersed in the circle were elf and fae warriors, a total of four. In full warrior gear, they looked exactly like what many human movies and books depicted them. The dormant’s faces were pale with fear, but their stances were resolute. The elves and fae were seasoned in combat and looked pissed off. One of them, a fae with violet hair pulled back in a severe ponytail, raised her hands, and a shield of light sprang up between her and an approaching demon.
“They’re fighting back,” Synica murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Tyler’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the screen. “Dormants.”
“Terrified dormants,” Jeff pointed out. “Who look like they’ve only just realized that elves and fae exist.” He wasn’t wrong. The dormants kept giving the other warriors wary glances but had apparently decided since they were standing beside them, instead of advancing on them, they must be the good guys.
“Bloody hell,” Boain murmured. “Is the President of the United States in that helicopter?”
“You’d think they’d have gotten him out when the shit hit the fan in London,” Drayden’s hands rested on his hips.
“Whoever it is, those warriors and dormants believe they’re worth protecting,” Angus, the Ireland pack alpha, pointed out. “But they look seriously outnumbered.”
Synica turned to face the room, her blood boiling inside of her at the thought of those young kids doing what the supernaturals should have been doing. “We go there first.”
“I swear this shit cannot get any worse,” Jeff muttered under his breath as he ran a hand across his face.
“We go there,” Synica repeated, her voice steady and unyielding. “We stop this. We get it under control. And then we go to draheim.”
Tyler hesitated, his jaw tightening as he glanced at the screen again. The images were brutal, the chaos overwhelming. But the sight of the dormants—young, terrified, and fighting anyway—seemed to solidify his decision.
“Fine.” He turned to the group. “We go to DC first. But we don’t waste time. You djinn are powerful as hell. How about we see you let that power loose. Once this is handled, we leave for draheim immediately.” Tyler looked at the djinn male. “Since you’re here, you get to fight, too. Welcome to the pack. Put others before yourself, fight for the weak, and try not to get yourself killed. We don’t have time for funerals.”
Raith let out a bark of laughter, his golden eyes gleaming with excitement. “You bunch are a hell of lot more interesting than Shade and his obsession. Let’s go kill some things before I have to deal with his grumpy ass again.”
Synica ignored him and focused on the task ahead. What they reported on the news looked horrifying. She had no doubt that it would be even worse in person—when the demons were in front of you and not separated by thousands of miles and a glass screen with only images of them.
The world around her vanished in a flash of light, leaving behind the mountains, the cold stone walls, and the lingering scent of leather and steel. Synica’s senses were momentarily swallowed by the disorienting hum of fae magic as the world bent and folded around her. A rush of wind pressed against her, carrying with it the faint smell of ozone and damp earth. She clenched her jaw and kept her hand firmly on the fae warrior beside her, whose grip on her forearm was unyielding.
When the light faded, the world snapped back into focus, and they were no longer in Romania.
The scene before Synica was worse than the broadcast had shown. The White House, a symbol of power and stability, now stood as a broken shell in the heart of the chaos. The air was alive with sounds that crawled under her skin. Screams, guttural snarls, and the crackle of flames consuming everything in their path. Smoke swirled in the wind, carrying with it the unmistakable stench of sulfur and charred flesh. It was enough to make her eyes burn and her stomach twist.
She inhaled deeply, her throat stinging as the acrid air filled her lungs. The coppery tang of blood was metallic, and it mingled with the bitter scent of burning wood and scorched earth. The ground beneath her boots was uneven, scattered with debris—glass shards, twisted metal, and chunks of stone from the ruined building. Every step crunched, a grim reminder of the destruction.
Synica’s sharp gaze sought out the group of dormants and warriors near the helicopter. They were still holding their ground, though she could see the strain on their faces as the demons pressed closer. There were vampires that were beginning to notice the group, and as they dropped their victims to the ground, they changed their direction and headed toward the helicopter. The violet-haired fae’s shield flickered, momentarily dimming under the relentless assault of claws and fiery blasts. An auburn-haired female dormant, lips pressed tightly together, flinched with every impact but didn’t retreat. The glow of the shield, though faint, was still there.
“Move!” Tyler’s voice snapped Synica out of her thoughts, his command cutting through the noise. The Missouri alpha was already phasing into his wolf form, his dark fur bristling as he charged forward. A snarl tore from his throat as he collided with the nearest demon, and his powerful jaws snapped shut around its throat.
The rest of the wolves followed. Their bodies rippled as fur replaced flesh. The transformation was seamless, brutal, and swift. Growls and howls filled the air as they surged into the fray, their claws and teeth tearing into the demons with savage precision.
