Power erupted from the tree line like a star going nova, blue-white fire that made every supernatural sense I possessed scream warnings. The light slammed into the rogue attacking Nate, wrapping around it like chains made of starfire.
The beast yelped, recoiling, smoke rising from fur that had been touched by magic older than the stones, older than the trees, older than the bonds that held our pack together.
Through the blazing light, I saw him.
Gideon stepped into the clearing like an avenging angel dressed in coveralls and work boots, power crackling around his hands with casual ease that spoke of decades of practice. His face was carved from granite, all sharp angles and shadows that revealed nothing and everything at once.
“Get away from them,” he said, voice layered with harmonics that made reality shiver at the edges.
The big rogue pinning me froze, eyes narrowing as he took in this impossible development.“So. The witch still plays at shadows.”
Recognition and old hatred dripped from every word. Gideon's expression didn't change, but the magic around his fingers flared brighter, and several rogues whimpered and pressed back against the treeline.
“This is your only warning,” Gideon continued, taking another step forward. Light danced around him like he was the center of his own personal aurora. “Leave. Now. Before I decide you're not worth the energy it would take to kill you cleanly.”
The biggest rogue's lips pulled back in what might have been a grin if it hadn't been full of teeth.“The witch makes threats. How quaint.”But he didn't step back. Instead, he pressed his weight down harder, and I felt my ribs creak under the pressure.“Thirty years I've waited to finish what we started. Thirty years of watching you hide behind your little pet wolves.”
Gideon's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “And thirty years you've been too much of a coward to face me yourself.”
“Oh, but I'm not alone this time.”The rogue's grin widened, showing too many teeth.“My pack grows while yours withers. Soon there will be nothing left but bones and?—”
He never got to finish the threat. Gideon's magic lashed out like a whip of pure starfire, wrapping around the rogue's throat and jerking him backward. The sudden release of pressure letme drag in a desperate breath, my wolf form shaking as I rolled to my feet.
“Clever,”the rogue snarled, claws raking at the magical bonds around his neck.“But not clever enough.”
He howled, a sound that made my bones ache, and the remaining rogues surged forward in a coordinated attack. But Gideon was ready.
“Left flank,” he called to me, magic streaming from his hands to catch two rogues mid-leap. “Drive them toward the stones.”
I didn't question it, didn't waste time wondering how a witch and a wolf were supposed to coordinate in battle. My wolf understood pack tactics, and right now, Gideon was pack.
I lunged left, claws extended, catching the first rogue in the shoulder and using my momentum to send us both rolling toward the ancient standing stones that marked the clearing's edge. The creature snapped at my throat, but I twisted away and got my jaws around its foreleg, biting down until I heard bone crack.
Behind me, light exploded as Gideon's magic collided with the big rogue's renewed attack. The Alpha had broken free of the magical bonds, but the effort had cost him—I could smell burned fur and see the way he favored his left side.
“You've gotten old, witch,”the rogue taunted, circling Gideon like a predator sizing up wounded prey.“Soft. Weak. Hiding behind your human masks for so long you've forgotten what real power feels like.”
“Keep talking,” Gideon said calmly, power building around him like a gathering storm. “It makes it easier to aim.”
The magic hit the rogue center mass, lifting him off his feet and slamming him into a tree with enough force to crack bark. But he rolled to his feet almost immediately, shaking off the impact like it was nothing more than an inconvenience.
“My turn,”he snarled.
He moved faster than anything that size should have been able to, crossing the clearing in three massive bounds. But instead of going for Gideon, he feinted left at the last second, coming straight for me.
I barely had time to brace before he hit me like a freight train made of fury and fangs. We went down hard, rolling across the forest floor in a tangle of claws and snapping jaws. He was bigger, stronger, older—but I was fighting on my home ground, with pack bonds singing strength into my bones.
“Hold him steady,” Gideon shouted, and I heard the sound of magic building to a crescendo.
I locked my jaws around the rogue's throat, ignoring the way his claws raked across my ribs, and held on for all I was worth. The rogue thrashed, trying to break free, but I'd learned from the best—Dad had taught me that sometimes winning meant being willing to take more damage than you gave, as long as you never let go.
“Foolish pup,”the rogue gasped, but there was less confidence in his voice now.“You think your witch can save you? You think his light can burn away what's coming for this place?”
I wanted to tell him exactly what I thought he could do with his threats, but wolf vocal cords weren't designed for witty comebacks. Instead, I tightened my grip on his throat and let my eyes do the talking. The message was pretty clear: keep running your mouth and see what happens.
The rogue's gaze flicked between me and Gideon, calculating odds that were rapidly shifting out of his favor. Around us, the battle had quieted—pack wolves holding defensive positions while the remaining rogues hesitated, waiting to see how their Alpha's gambit would play out.
“This isn't over,”the rogue snarled, but he was already shifting his weight, preparing to break free.“The old magic iswaking up, witch. Your little town, your precious pack—none of it will survive what's coming.”
