Fifteen minutes sounds like a large grace period, but Fallamhain land is vast. The front gates are miles away from here. They’ll need every second of the time he’s given them.
My gaze shifts to the large windows and to the wolves waiting outside. They’d stepped out of the tree line and circled the lodge like a thunderstorm swallowing a blue sky. Leading the front line, I recognize Canaan’s and Cerys’s forms easily. Behind the lodge, Rhosyn’s fawn-and-cream form is recognizable even at this distance.Towering beside her is a wolf I don’t know. Their much larger body is brown and sable with black-tipped points. From here, I can sense the way the mystery wolf bleeds an aura of dominance.
Not pack,my wolf supplies unhelpfully.
When Rennick dips his head, the shift is so small I almost miss it, but the air reacts before I can. The room exhales allat one, then there are chairs scraping, boots shuffling, heels clicking against the polished concrete floors, the low murmur of people realizing they’ve finally been dismissed from this show.
The McNamara wolves move faster than the rest, shoulders squared, trying to look like they’re leaving on their own terms. We all know they aren’t. Even stripped of their smugness, ill-placed pride keeps their spines stiff and noses turned up.
Rennick doesn’t budge. His arm stays firm around my waist, holding me close enough to feel the thrum of his pulse behind his ribs. It’s far steadier than mine, and somehow that settles me without even trying. We watch as the partygoers file out of the lodge. Outside, the ring of waiting wolves shift formation and close ranks. Their attention pinned to the departing McNamara Pack members.
Amara is the last to linger. Her hands stay raised, the air rippling ever so slightly around her palms where the wind bends to her will. Cathal and his men remain caught inside her invisible storm. Her eyes flick over her shoulder to Rennick, one unbothered brow lifted. This display of power would put most witches on their asses, but the High Priestess looks…bored.
He answers her with a slight incline of his chin.
When Amara stars toward the door, the cage follows her like a leashed animal.The men inside stumble after it, their movements jerky and graceless as the magic drags them along. Simmering with fury, Cathal battles against a force he can’t see and can’t overpower. Something in me savors it. My wolf gives a low approving chuff.
Rennick’s arm drops from around my waist, but only so he can reach down and take my hand instead. He gives a single squeeze, a wordlessstay with me, before leading me down the steps of the stage and toward the open doors.
The chilly air bites at my cheeks, but the sun shines bright as we step outside after everyone.
Cars belonging to the McNamara Pack are already peeling out of the small dirt parking lot by the time we step off the wooden porch, Cerys and her girls taking off after them to make sure they make it through the gates. Some of the other McNamara members in attendance have elected to shift and run to the Northern border, those ones are being watched closely by the other guards Rennick put in place.
Talis stands before the open back passenger door of a waiting silver SUV with her arms crossed tightly across her chest. Her stiletto taps a frantic rhythm into the gravel, impatience and embarrassment building around her like a bitter fog. The car idles behind her, a driver waiting for an order that won’t come until their final passenger is released.
The sight of her makes my wolf give a low, possessive rattle from inside her cage, but it fades when movement to my left pulls my attention.
Siggy.
She’s hovering near the lodge’s front steps, her movements hesitant as she picks her way through the thinning crowd. When our eyes meet, I offer her the softest smile I can manage. Her wide, dark blue eyes are unseeing, her bottom lip has been bitten raw. She looks pale and frayed at the edges. This was all too much for her. I don’t need to ask to confirm. When she reaches me, she holds back by two steps, hovering close enough that her hand can find mine if she needs the additional support. Just being close has some of the tension easing from her stiff shoulders.
My focus pulls back to Amara just in time to see her stop several paces from the waiting SUV. The McNamara men stumble to an awkward halt inside the still turning funnel of air.
The High Priestess looks to Rennick again, awaiting his word.
Silence stretches thin and I find I’m once again holding my breath.
Rennick finally gives the signal with a calmness that absolutely does not match the situation, but sure…why not? Apparently, his gut hasn’t told him what mine is currently screaming at me.
The wind stills and I brace, but Rennick doesn’t move. He continues to stand there beside me, a picture of total control.
The moment the invisible walls dissolve, Cathal spins, fury snapping through him like a whip. His face is flushed and damp with sweat, his barreled chest heaving, his eyes gleaming with a sheen that borders on feral.
“How fucking dare?—”
Cathal’s voice breaks off, twisting into a savage snarl before it’s swallowed completely by the sound of flesh reshaping and the unholy crunch of bone. His wolf tears free, rage transforming him before my eyes. The massive ruddy brown creature lands on all fours, hackles raised, saliva flying from his snapping maw.
The sound Rennick makes in response is nothing human. It’s a warning that shakes the earth below my sock-covered feet.
The other pack Alpha doesn’t listen.
Cathal lunges.
Everything slows.
One heartbeat, Rennick is beside me, calm enough to make me doubt the validity of this threat. The next, he’s gone. Replaced by a storm of fur and muscle as his own wolf rips free. The shift is a blur, the sound violent enough to make my stomach roll. The black-and-gray beast slams into Cathal mid-charge, the collision cracking through the air like thunder. Dust and gravel spray beneath them, the force jolting me backward.
They hit the ground in a frenzy of teeth and claws.
