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I lunge through the witch’s circle and sink my teeth into her shoulder. She screams, batting at me, but I shake her as hard as I can. Her neck snaps, and she goes limp.

The fire engulfing Coral extinguishes just as fast.

Black smoke pours out of the wound on the witch’s neck and dissipates into the air.

I turn to go to Coral and slam into a perimeter. The energy knocks me backward. Panic laces under my resolve. I reach for my wolves in my mind, but there’s nothing.

The witch’s circle has cut me off completely.

I try again and get the same result. Then again. Pain lances through my shoulder. I shout, but no one hears me. Fucking witches.

Finally, when I’ve all but dislocated my shoulder, Griffin notices. His bark is muffled. He races forward and digs at the circle, breaking the markings apart. Something cracks through the air, and the magical barrier shatters around us.

Was it a trap? A circle meant to capture?

Coral is writhing on the ground, her agony coming through the bond loud and clear. The two others are trying to help her, but they’re doing no good.

Everyone stop, I command, my alpha voice searing through their alarm.

They drop to the ground, ears flattening back against their heads. I lunge forward, going to the now still Coral.

I will not lose another wolf.

And a female to boot.

I shift back to my human form and land at her side, quickly patting down Coral’s body. Checking for the damage, putting out the last of her smoking fur. There’s a lot… a lot of damage. My throat closes. Her fur has been singed away, leaving patches of burnt skin.

She whines, her wolf eyes open wide. It only intensifies what I feel—both the guilt

“Shift,” I command.

She does without thinking, curling into a naked ball in front of me. The skin down her side, from her ribcage to her hips, is charred black. She has other wounds, some oozing from pink and shiny skin, and she almost immediately starts to tremble.

“Easy. It’ll be okay.” I hover my hands over the worst of her injuries.

My healing magic is slow to respond to my command, and I curse the new moon. We wait for several tense minutes as it flows through her injuries, repairing the worst of the damage and easing her pain.

Finally, her breathing relaxes.

I scoop her into my arms, careful to avoid the injuries. Griffin walks with me, the other two in their wolf form. One of them rushes ahead, hurrying to wake our medic. By the time we arrive back, all the lights are on in the women’s shared house. The unmated women all live here—if they want. Others choose to live alone, but most wolf shifters aren’t built for that sort of solitude. There’s a sheet spread across their kitchen table, and I lay her down on it carefully.

Some are drawn downstairs by my presence. Others linger in the shadows or outside.

The medic, Antonio, stands waiting for us with his head bowed.

I step back and watch him for a moment. Someone hands me a pair of sweatpants, which I take with a small nod. Eventually, though, my skin crawls with the need to move. The restlessness is all me. My wolf is satiated for now, more distraught than anything. Seeing a pack member’s fur alight is a horror I’d wish on no one but our worst enemies.

I turn on my heel and stride out, my mind full of puzzles.

There are demons in our territory. Not only that, but a witch, too. A witch under their control. Setting traps for us—this is more organized than I’ve ever seen. That’s the worrisome part.

This has to be the Seer’s fault.

I cross the small village, my head held high in case someone is watching out their windows. Some of my wolves worry too much when we go, and their anxiety can be contagious if not managed. I try to focus on tempering my emotions, emitting calm confidence.

It’s a façade, but I’m good at faking. Even to my pack’s mental bond.

In my room, my gaze is drawn to the bloody cloth. The scent I worked so hard to banish is right back in my nose, demanding attention.