The ritual circle collapsed as everyone's attention snapped toward the tree line. Persephone's spring magic flared defensively while Hades' power began spreading like spilled ink across the lawn. My hand flew to my belly as the triplets responded to the immediate threat with agitated movements that felt like tiny prizefighters warming up.
"What in the seven hells was that?" Nana demanded, clutching her shotgun.
The answer came bounding out of the woods on legs that were bent at odd angles. They might have been three wolves at one time. Calling them wolves now was like calling a tornado a light breeze.
“We can thank Lyra for these abominations,” Mom snarled.
I wanted to check on her and make sure she was okay. Seeing more of Lyra’s experimentation victims would be a sore subjectfor her. Mom was a tri-bred creature now, thanks to that vile witch, but I couldn’t move my eyes from the wolves.
Once upon a time, these things had probably been so beautiful you couldn’t help but stop and stare. Now? Not so much. Their fur looked like someone had taken a weed whacker to it. It was patchy and sad. It also hung off bodies that had clearly missed more than a few meals. Way more. Like, all the meals.
Their eyes were the real showstoppers, though. Orange lights danced where normal eyeballs should be. They left glowing trails when they turned their heads. It was the kind of special effect that would've been cool in a movie, but in real life? Hard pass.
Oh, and the drooling. There was so much drooling. Thick ropes of saliva hung from jaws that unhinged like a broken suitcase and gaped wide enough to park a Honda Civic. Someone had also clearly gone shopping in the shark aisle of the monster parts store, because those razor-sharp triangles belonged in the ocean.
“Who would do something like that?” Nina lamented.
“The crazy bitch trying to steal our sisters and brother,” Jean-Marc replied at the same time as one of the wolves fixed its burning gaze on me.
The intelligence there was shocking, given the condition of the rest of it. It opened that horrible mouth and spoke in a voice like grinding bones. "The children will feed us. The blood will make us whole."
"The hell they will," I snarled. My magic flared hot enough to make the air shimmer.
Aidon stepped in front of me. His divine power manifested as black iron spikes that thrust from the ground like defensive walls. "Phoebe, get back to the house."
"No way," I replied. Apparently, being eight months pregnant hadn't cured my stubborn streak. "I'm not abandoning our ritual."
"The ritual is postponed until we deal with this," Mom said firmly. Her teeth had sharpened, and her fingernails elongated as parts of her tri-bred nature rose to the surface. "These things are here for the babies."
The second wolf-creature laughed. The sound was like breaking glass mixed with dying screams. "The witch-mother calls us. We hunt what she desires." Its massive head swiveled toward me again. "Four hearts beat within one. Such power will feed our hunger."
Before anyone could get a word out—or you know, maybe run for their lives like sensible people—all three wolves decided it was go time. They moved like a death squad, eating up the space between the trees and the garden faster than I could process what was happening. Which, let's be honest, wasn't saying much given my current state of ‘what the actual hell is my life right now’.
Murtagh's battle cry likely registered on the Richter scale. He shifted mid-sprint, and holy wow. His wolf was the kind of gorgeous that made you forget you were about to die. He was rippling muscle and predatory grace wrapped up in a package that screamed pissed off apex predator.
When he slammed into the lead wolf, it sounded like someone had crashed a semi into the side of a skyscraper. Except louder. And with more teeth involved.
The second wolf veered toward the coven witches. Its burning eyes were fixed on Vera. She threw her hands up, and moonbell flowers erupted from the ground in a defensive ring. The chiming intensified to a painful pitch that made the creature stumble, clawing at its misshapen ears.
"The sound disrupts whatever magic is driving them," Vera called out over the noise. "But it won't hold them long."
The third wolf ignored everyone else and came straight for me. Its massive paws left smoking prints in the grass as it bounded forward. Aidon's shadows rose to meet it. Somehow, it crashed through the spikes with only a slight stumble.
"Oh, hell no," I muttered, channeling my magic through sheer protective fury. Golden light erupted from my hands. I was so torn between being shocked and keeping the magic flowing that I almost missed when it skidded to a halt with a yelp of genuine pain.
"Phoebe, your stress levels—" Clio started.
"Are the least of our problems right now," I finished, maintaining the magical barrier between me and the creature. The effort sent contractions rippling through my belly. I had to grit my teeth and hold firm.
The wolf began circling. It was obviously looking for any weaknesses in my defense. Its orange eyes had dimmed slightly where my magic had hit them, but the intelligence behind them remained uncomfortably keen. "You cannot protect them forever, star-daughter. We know where you nest. We know where you sleep."
"Yeah, well, I know where you're about to die," I shot back, pouring more power into the barrier.
Hades appeared beside the circling wolf without warning. He moved so fast that he left afterimages. His hand closed around the creature's throat. I expected it to wither and die. Instead, the corruption began burning away like acid under his touch. The wolf-thing shrieked and clawed, but the Lord of the Underworld held firm.
"Tell your mistress," Hades said in a voice that could have frozen lava, "that threatening my family was her final mistake."He squeezed, and the creature dissolved into ash that scattered in the wind.
Meanwhile, Murtagh and the lead wolf were having their own private war. It was destroying what used to be a perfectly nice lawn. Both of them moved like they'd been choreographed by someone with serious anger management issues. Whatever Lyra had done to this thing had cranked it up to eleven on the "things that want to eat your face" scale. Way past anything Mother Nature had ever intended.
