I kissed his palm, and then we were off into the new fray. The wolves we came up against were red-eyed and crazed, each and every one of them fighting with the strength of five.
Valens and I worked together as a team, progressing slowly and deliberately so neither of us was ever unprotected. My sword aided me, sharpening my reflexes and augmenting my speed, so that despite their extra fervor, we cut our way through the crowd untouched.
But when a bloodcurdling scream ricocheted over the sounds of war, I couldn’t help but look. And what I saw? It was the stuff of nightmares.
Bran Cadogan was unmistakable. He wore blood on his cheekbones for war paint, his great mane of blond hair threaded with small bones, and the ancient bronze armor he wore caught the torchlight, reflecting up on his ghastly expression in the darkness. Even from here, I could see the defensive magic crawling over the armor protecting the evil bastard. But that wasn’t what caused the scream. He held a female shifter aloft, roared angrily in her face, and, with a mighty bellow, broke her back over his knee. I gasped as he tossed her bent and broken body aside like so much garbage, immediately searching for his next victim.
Before my eyes, Shay appeared, Dirge’s hand gripped in hers as the flash of white fae light disappeared. Dirge charged Bran, head-to-head, as Shay grabbed the injured she-wolf and flashed away.
“No,” I gasped as I saw Bran grab Dirge by the throat, lifting him up, up overhead. I ran their way, but I was still too far to stop whatever he was about to do to our friend. How could Shay just leave him there like that? Dirge wasn’t even struggling in Bran’s grip, and confusion piled on top of my fear.
But seconds later, it wasn’t Dirge who lay broken on the ground. Dirge had risked getting close to Bran so he could take his shot, just like the ODL had Kane. Too quick to block, he slid a blade across Bran’s throat. He now held a blood-soaked dagger, backing away, then turning to run as Bran held a hand over a gaping neck wound, his blood sheeting down over his shining armor in a macabre waterfall, cut to the bone.
A death blow.
I held my breath until my lungs demanded more, realizing I couldn’t stand around and watch the drama. Narcissa’s soldiers were not going to wait for me to pop popcorn and see what happened. I did check and see that Dirge got away, and that Bran stumbled backward toward the forest, disappearing from sight. His own forces were so crazed with bloodlust, none of them followed him as he left.
There was a temporary lull in the battle as Narcissa’s people held ground instead of advancing. I turned to Valens, wiping sweat from my brow. “Do you think he’s dead? I guess we’ll know soon enough if he’s still immortal…” I trailed off, hopeful that maybe there had been a quick solution to our problems, but in my gut knowing it could never be that easy.
“Unless everyone stops fighting, I don’t think we’ll know. She’s controlling them. They’re mates… If he dies, she dies, and it all stops. Otherwise… I think we have to assume he survived.”
“Makes sense.”
Shay appeared next to us and, without a word, grabbed both of our wrists and flashed.
Fuck.
My stomach twisted with nausea as the world around me warped, and within a heartbeat, she deposited us in the castle courtyard, where the rest of the pack’s inner circle was gathered.
“Good Goddess, I feel like I’m going to barf,” Fiona exclaimed, clearly having gotten the same treatment seconds before we did. Valens looked green around the gills, but didn’t comment.
Shay, on the other hand, didn’t even look winded.
“Okay, we’ve got a new plan,” Gael started in, not waiting for us to all recover from our light-travel adventures to launch into strategy. “That was a death blow. The knife Dirge used was coated in wolfsbane and phlox root, a heavy concentration Brielle prepared last week for this exact scenario. If the fighting stops, it worked. Control of the stone will revert to Kane and Brielle, and the war should be over, or nearly over.”
Nobody cheered, because we already knew that wasn’t the only option.
“If he comes back healed, we’ll know they’re still immortal, and we need to execute plan B.” He gazed at us all somberly. “Convince Bran to kill Narcissa.”
“How the hell are we supposed to do that?” Lucien asked, dragging a tired hand over his scarred face. “He’s been burning the world down for her since the sixteen hundreds. I don’t think we’ll just ask nicely and he’ll change his tune now.”
Brielle was quiet during this exchange and the brief argument that ensued after. But I watched her staring at Dirge. I crossed to stand next to her, nodding to Galyna, who stood at her other shoulder, listening intently to the argument about how to kill an evil, immortal Alpha.
“What is it? You’re thinking something,” I asked quietly, not wanting to disrupt the others.
“That knife… It’s got Bran’s blood on it.”
“Yeah, that’s what happens when you slice someone’s carotid open. There tends to be blood.”
She didn’t even acknowledge my sarcasm, confirming my suspicion that she was deep in thought.
“Dirge, hand me the knife, please.” I elbowed him, gesturing to the bloody blade he still held.
“Careful,” he cautioned, handing it over hilt first, then rejoining the debate. It had moved on to beheading and how surely even an immortal being couldn’t survivethat.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” I muttered, very gingerly accepting the weapon and holding it up for Brielle to inspect more closely.
She squinted at it, then hesitantly poked the flat of the blade with one finger, smearing Bran’s blood across her fingertip and then closing her eyes.
