That’s when I notice the glint of something peeking through its fur. Silver. They’ve got a silver collar fitted around this thing’sneck like it’s a junkyard dog, and judging from the faint etchings I can see in the metal, it’s enchanted.
So that explains it. Kyle thinks he has a new pet he can control, and I have to admit, it seems to be working.
For now.
“Recognize him?” Kyle’s voice is sickeningly satisfied. “We’ve been saving him for a special occasion. He’s been asking about you, Regina. Well, not asking, exactly, but he gets excited when we mention your name.”
Regina doesn’t respond. She can’t. I feel her magic stutter and freeze, her control shattering under the weight of years of nightmares made flesh.
No. No, no, no?—
Don’t let it touch her!
I don’t know if the thought reaches my pack or if they’re already moving, but suddenly we’re closing ranks around Regina, forming a tight circle with her at the center. The werewolf’s yellow eyes track the movement, head tilting with interest.
The coven starts to advance, and everything goes to hell.
I lunge for Kyle first, not just because of the burning need to rip out the throat of the man who hurt my mate, but because I’m sure he’s the one holding the werewolf’s magical leash. But two other coven members intercept me, throwing up shields that crackle against my fur. I snarl and slam into them anyway, feeling the shields buckle under my weight.
Behind me, I hear the sounds of fighting. Sean’s furious growl. Micah’s sharper bark and Rowan’s deadly silence. Regina’s found her voice again. It’s cracked but she’s already shouting words that make the air shimmer with destructive energy.
Even terrified, even with her worst nightmare snarling twenty feet away, she’s fighting. Our mate is so fucking brave, and I’m going to make sure she never has to be again.
I break through the shields and take down one of the coven members, a man with a goatee who screams like a goat too when my teeth find his throat. I jerk my head until I hear the crack of his neck and leave him to water the grass.
The next one who gets between me and Kyle meets a similar fate, down before he can finish his little Latin nursery rhyme.
The coven isn’t used to this. They’re used to magical duels fought at a polite distance, with rules and referees and time to cast complex spells. They’re not used to two hundred pounds of pissed-off alpha wolf getting in their faces before they can finish an incantation.
We’re winning.
And then I hear Sean scream.
It’s not a sound I’ve ever heard him make before. Not a growl or a snarl or even a yelp of pain. It’s a scream, guttural and raw, and it echoes through the pack bond like my own pain.
I spin around in time to see the werewolf’s claws rake across Sean’s face. Blood sprays. Sean goes down hard, his wolf form convulsing, and the left side of his face?—
Fuck. Ohfuck.
The werewolf looms over him, jaws opening for the killing bite, and I’m already moving, already throwing myself across the distance with everything I have. I slam into the creature’s side, knocking it away from Sean’s prone form, and we go tumbling across the meadow in a wrecking ball of claws and teeth.
It’s stronger than me. I knew that before we made contact, considering it’s a fucking werewolf, but knowing and feeling are different things. It’s like fighting a bomb. Every blow I land barely seems to register. Every time I think I’ve found an opening, it twists away with that wrong, jerky speed.
But I’m faster. And I’m smarter.
And I’m not fucking insane.
I dodge a swipe that would’ve taken my head off and circle around, putting myself between the werewolf and my pack. Behind me, Rowan’s shouting something. Probably coordinating with Micah to get Sean and Regina out of the combat zone.
They’re gonna have to handle the coven. I can’t let this thing anywhere near our mate again.
Killian!Regina’s voice sounds far off and desperate in my head. I feel her terror, but it’s not for herself anymore. She’s scared for me.Don’t?—
Can’t answer. Don’t have the mental space for it. The werewolf’s coming at me again, and all I can do is dodge, snap, retreat, trying to keep its attention on me and away from the others.
It works.
The thing is fixated on me now, tracking my movements obsessively. Whatever’s left of its brain has decided I’m the biggest threat.
