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I couldn’t use my magic.

What else did I have?

My eyes shifted to the table in front of me with Dulsa’s potion ingredients.

Shadows exploded, surrounding the cot I was hiding under. I choked and gagged as the darkness smothered me, filling my throat and nostrils with its icy fumes.

“Ah, it feels so good to finally use my magic again,” Gorem said, his voice full of amusement. “I’ve had to hide it for so long. I couldn’t risk anyone finding out I was from the Marlowe family. Once I closed the portal and isolated us from that wretched fae world, they would immediately know it was me. But now?” He grunted, and shadows tightened around my arms, pinning my wrists to the ground. His sinister laugh echoed around me. “Now, I can unleash it all.”

I tried to shout, but his magic blocked my throat, making my eyes water. I couldn’t breathe. My lungs strained, my chest cinching tighter and tighter. Black spots floated in my vision.

A roar split the air. Heavy footfalls thudded, and Gorem’s shadows loosened. I wheezed a rattling breath, my throat on fire.

Between the shadows, I made out a mass of black fur lunging for Gorem.

Tavik.

Within seconds, Gorem had shifted to a huge gray beast. The wolves collided, snarls filling the air. Gradually, Gorem’s shadows around me faded until I was able to move. I hastily wriggled out from under the cot, eyes widening as Tavik’s claws sliced into the gray wolf. Blood spurted, pooling along the floor. Gorem’s wolf kicked Tavik off with a powerful thrust of his legs. Tavik rolled, and the gray wolf pounced. Claws slashed into Tavik’s chest.

“No!” I screamed.

The gray wolf’s jaws opened wide, and he tore into Tavik’s shoulder. Tavik let out a pained whimper.

My pulse roared in my ears, and I rushed to the table of ingredients. My hands shook as I lifted various jars, swearing when I realized most of these were items I’d never heard of before.

Then, I found something I recognized: clawtooth powder. In small doses, it acted as a numbing agent.

But, combined with pine root in large doses, it was lethal.

My fingers trembled so violently I spilled heaps of powder on the table. I struggled to breathe evenly as I poured the remaining clawtooth powder into the jar of pine root. Then I corked it and shook it violently to mix the ingredients. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Tavik going limp.

I carefully removed the cork again and inched closer to the grappling wolves. Tavik lay in a pool of blood as the gray wolf loomed over him, fangs stained crimson.

I wanted to hurry to his side, but if I moved too quickly, I would knock over cots and tables and draw the gray wolf’s attention. My heart slammed madly against my ribcage.

“Stay alive!” I shouted to Alaric. “Please stay alive!”

He didn’t respond. I prayed it wasn’t too late.

One step. Then another. I was getting closer now…

The gray wolf’s mouth opened wider, revealing several rows of sharp, bloodstained teeth.

I’m not going to make it! I thought.

Without thinking, I lunged. The gray wolf leaned in to deal the killing blow just as I tackled him around the middle. Blood and fur surrounded me as the beast twisted under my grip. His legs worked furiously, claws tearing through fabric and flesh. A line of fire exploded down my middle, blood gushing from the wound. I let out a sharp cry, my vision blurring with tears. The gray wolf wriggled, angling his snout toward me. His golden eyes burned with rage, and he bared his teeth at me. Hot, foul breath stung my nostrils as his fangs drew closer…

I threw the vial of poison straight into the wolf’s open mouth.

He shuddered, eyes flaring wide. Smoke emitted from his snout. I hastily rolled away from him, clutching at the open wound in my side. The wolf staggered, smashing into the cots behind him. A desperate whine bubbled up his throat, wet and ragged as it mingled with the white foam coating his lips.

I scooted on the floor, inching closer to Tavik’s motionless form. Please, I begged. Please be alive.

“Alaric, can you hear me?” I thought through the bond.

No answer.

Gorem’s wolf let out an anguished howl as he writhed on the floor. His gagging sounds echoed around me as I reached Tavik’s bloody form. A chunk of flesh was missing from his throat, a river of blood flowing from the gash.