His throat puffed, and his eyes were wet. He shoved his head under my arm like he could physically drag me forward.
“I know,” I whispered, voice cracking. “I know, boy. She’s in danger.”
He croaked louder, rising onto all fours.
“No,” I said softly.
His entire massive body froze.
“You can’t come.”
He croaked again, panicked now, head swinging toward the assembled clan as if pleading for backup.
Enka winced. “This is gonna be ugly.”
Ribbon pushed his head under my arm harder, trying to wedge himself beneath me. I caught his cheeks in both hands.
“Listen to me,” I rasped. “If they hurt you… she’d break. She’d break, Ribbon. You stay here and get yourself ready to take care of her. That’s your job.”
His whole body slumped, and he whined—an actual low, trembling whine—and pressed his enormous forehead to mine.
I exhaled shakily. “I’ll bring her back.”
He croaked, a soft, defeated sound.
Krusk placed a hand on my back. “He’s right to want to come. You’re… vibrating.”
“I’m fine,” I muttered.
Enka snorted. “You’re not. You look like a bomb about to detonate.”
Darak strode forward, brow furrowed. “Savla. Your eyes are fully black.”
I didn’t have to be able to see to know. I could feel them—fully dilated and ready to murder anything that got in my way. My heart was pulsing in sync with the bond.
Tabitha approached, resting one hand lightly on my shoulder. “You have this under control. We’ll do the work with our magick to get the glamor off of her. And the rest is up to you.”
My throat tightened as I thought of the implications.
“Can you control your rage?” Krusk asked, understanding before I even had to say anything.
I swallowed. “If she’s hurt, no.”
Darak smirked grimly. “Then it’s a good thing we aren’t going in quietly.”
We moved as one. Orcs in front—silent shadows made of muscle and iron. Witches behind—glowing golden shields that they’d conjured crackling with magickal current.
Me?
I walked between both worlds.
My blood was burning like a second sun, my heart was beating too fast, and my breath was catching on every inhale. The bond was tugging, yanking, and demanding.
It was as if my skin didn’t fit right—like the world had tilted. As though my father’s voice was lurking at the edge of my memory.
This is how it starts. This is how you lose yourself.
I clenched my fists until my claws slid out, tips slicing theinside of my palms.
