It wasn’t an alpha, beta, or omega
This was something else.
Something old enough that my magic didn’t recognize it. It only recoiled.
Draven shifted subtly in front of me, his stance widening, shoulders squaring.
Whatever this thing was, he felt it too.
Other.
Wrong.
Vorthain lunged with speed, striking at Draven with a force that rattled my teeth in my skull as I was propelled backwards into the wall, the paintings shaking behind me.
Draven met him blow for blow, fangs bared and strikes precise, sparks flying as their powers collided—vampiric strength against a void that threatened to suck him in.
But soon Vorthain’s hits began to land harder, pushing Draven back, forcing him to retreat step by step.
My heart slammed as I watched the duel escalate. Draven was giving it everything he had, which should have been enough against even Victor. And yet Vorthain was hardly winded, as though he were merely indulging a child in their useless efforts.
A wet scream followed by deep growling and snapping broke through the tension, and the light of the full moon appeared from behind a cover of clouds. Its silver glare shone through the corridor window, illuminating two shadows growing in size behind Vorthain.
Werewolves, blood dripping from their snarling jaws.
Draven barked a laugh, the relief on his face putting me at ease. Thank Hecara, these two were on our side. “About time you assholes showed up.”
The alpha I recognized, even in his shifted form. It could only be Garrick, Ronan’s handler. The one who’d caught us at the rest stop and forced Ronan to bring me back.
I should have been mad, but considering he’d unknowingly saved my mate’s life, I supposed I could let it slide.
Next to him was a beta I didn’t know, albeit one nearly large and strong enough to be an alpha himself.
They stalked their prey, and Vorthain focused his attention on the new threats.
The big one lunged, claws slashing through the air, catching Vorthain across the chest and sending him staggering.
“Move!” Draven hissed, urgency threading his voice. He grabbed my hand, yanking me forward, twisting us around corners as Vorthain roared in fury and turned to face his new attackers.
Smoke and debris flew around us, but Draven moved like he’d been born for this moment, sliding me behind him, keeping us low and out of the fray.
Finally, we exited the mansion to find more chaos. Demons and vampires fought, demons and vampires fell, with blood and pain spilling into the air. We leapt over bodies, no time to mourn the loss of life over a battle started for me, and headed towards a gate at the back, open and ready.
On the street, a garishly pink car waited, its engine running. I spied two winged figures already inside.
We dove into the back seat, Draven slamming the door closed behind us. “Drive!” he commanded.
The twin seraphim looked at each other before turning around to face Draven. The alpha behind the wheel lifted an eyebrow. “Bossy tonight, aren’t we?”
“So bossy,” said her omega sister, smacking gum and grinning widely. Then her brows furrowed, and she reached towards my vampire protector. “You got a little something on your cheek.”
He knocked her hand away with an annoyed scoff, causing her to laugh. “Ella, text Ronan the rendezvous point. He had no idea we were coming tonight, and he’s going to rip us apart if he thinks we’re hiding his mate.”
She grinned again, giving him a mocking salute. “Aye aye, captain!”
The tires screeched, burning rubber on stone, and we were gone.
From the back window, I saw the mansion engulfed in flames, and I worried for a moment about Ronan. He could survive his own fire, couldn’t he?
