Just like the powers they've been speaking of—my witch powers—have somehow been unlocked from my palms, even though I have no control over them.
The demon's appearance forced my hand, and now I'm left watching Thane fight two shadowy masses that begin morphing into the shape of a deranged wolf-like creature, my heart pounding with adrenaline as it suddenly shoots through me.
I may have been denying the unseen all this time, but now that I'm witnessing the truth, there's no more denying it.
And when sensation stirs in my palms again, I know what I have to do.
I have to help Thane, even if I was just trying to escape him. Watching his claws go through the demons as if they're untouchable makes me quickly realize the extent of the danger.
All this power, all this energy, it has to mean something.
Chapter 11 - Thane
I pounce into the battle with the demons, my veins pulsing with adrenaline, hot and furious as I become more determined than ever to protect my fated mate.
My mind is racing with everything that just happened, from discovering that Willow ran away to witnessing her wield her magic for the first time when the demons approached.
Right now, there's no time to waste, as two demons found us on the bridge that crosses the lake toward the small human town of Hope. With my sharp claws distended, I give it my all as I slice at the demons, knowing that it isn't enough to defeat them.
We've fought the demons many times before, and our wolf claws are no match for the malevolent apparition that dwells between the underworld and physical realms. The body of a demon isn't solid, not a tangible thing that can be injured—not unless the witches use their magic to attack the creature, ripping its evil spirit out of the underworld and into the body of the wolf it morphs into. That's the only time a werewolf can attack and impair a demon with enough damage.
All I can do now is dodge the incoming attacks of the demons, my focus on keeping myself out of harm's way with every nimble dodge as their shadowy forms whisk through the air. Their screeching cries rip through my eardrums, the sound of terror escalating as their attacks grow, faster, harder, their whooshing forms surrounding me.
The two demons seem to be creating a vortex around me, surrounding me until all I see is black. The vortex is strong enough to pull me off my paws, levitating in the air as I try snapping my teeth at the creatures I can't sink my canines into.
The vortex turns to a narrow chasm of terror, the demons closing in on me like invisible hands clutching my throat. As my vision blurs and ribs crack, all I can think about is Willow, where I left her behind that tree stump, and praying she runs back to Girdwood while the demons finish me off.
A skittish whimper is like my last breath escaping my lips, my vision blackening as my wolf eyes close.
This is it.
I'm outnumbered against the demons, and too far away from home to call out for help.
Willow….
My inner wolf calls out to her, even if we're not connected telepathically, because she doesn't have a wolf. But it's a last cry of desperation, a mental plea for her to escape before the demons turn to her and I'm no longer there to protect her.
“Let. Him. Go!” comes Willow's voice crashing through the darkness, crumbling the hopelessness I felt a few seconds before, as if she's answering my internal voice.
My eyes shoot open just in time to see a brilliant, vivid flash of golden light whisk past me, the magical light crashing into a demon and instantly turning it to ashes that scatter on the snow. I collapse onto my side, the pain in my ribs causing my wolf to cower, leaving me in a pile of trembling human limbs as the last demon collapses into a hiss of smoke and then turns to ash.
The silence that follows is unnatural and hollow. I’m on my knees now, clutching my left side with both hands as searing pain flares through broken ribs. Blood stains the snow in large drips, dark and sharp against white, but I can’t take my eyes off Willow.
She stands in the middle of the clearing, golden light fading from her skin like the remnants of a storm when it's done wreaking havoc. Her hair whips around her face, wild and alive, the ground around her sizzling where her magic strikes. My lungs fill with air full of burnt iron and wood, but Willow doesn't seem to notice, her eyes clouded by the vibrant golden hues evident in her veins.
“Willow….” My voice cracks through her daze, and she blinks, lifting her face while her hands tremble as if she can’t quite believe what just happened.
“What did I…” her voice, full of fear, tapers off as her eyes return to their usual shade of blue.
“You burned them to ash,” I whisper, awe mixed with disbelief. “No witch has ever—” I stop only because my lungs protest, the broken rib shifting under my skin.
Her expression shifts from wonder to panic in an instant. “You’re hurt!”
I try to dismiss it, but Willow is already kneeling beside me, her warm hands pressing against my side. The contact sends a spark through me, but it's too intimate, too much right now. “It’s nothing,” I rasp, even though the metal tang in my mouth says otherwise.
Her gaze darts to the spreading stain of blood on my shirt. “That’s not nothing, Thane. We need to get back to Girdwood.”
She grabs my arm, flinging it over her shoulder despite our difference in strength. “We won't make it in time,” I manage through gritted teeth as I wince from the pain that comes with standing up. “Using your power…it draws them in. More will come. There's a safehouse….”
