Page 48

I let the shift progress beautifully—bones thickening and claws extending past my knuckles until my hands embody pure, sovereign strength. It is an ideal balance, close enough to the full form that the wolf's uncompromising drive directs my every motion. "You talk too much."

"And you feel too much." She raises both hands, blood-red energy swirling between her palms. "Let me fix that for you."

The magical blast hits me center mass and sends me skidding backward across the dirt. Pain lances through my chest, but I force myself upright, breathing hard.

Kellan appears beside me, breathing hard. "Three down, three to go. How's your dance partner?"

"Chatty," I wipe blood from my mouth.

Sybil tilts her head while studying us both. "Two little wolves, so brave, yet so doomed."

Kellan and I circle Sybil like hunting wolves, coordinating our attacks without words. He lunges left while I drive right, forcing her to divide her attention to keep pace with us.

"Two against one?" Sybil laughs, raising a searing energy barrier to deflect Kellan's claws. "How unsporting."

"Should've brought more friends," Kellan snarls, pivoting to strike again.

Sybil's smile turns savage. "Oh, darling. I’m more than enough."

She spins, kinetic luminescence erupting from her palms in twin arcs. Kellan dodges the first blast, but the second catches him across the chest. The magical energy tears through him like liquid fire, sending him crashing into a burning tree trunk with a sickening crack.

"Kellan!" I roar while watching him slump to the ground, blood pooling beneath his limp form.

"One down." Sybil turns toward me, power swirling around her like a storm. "Your turn, wolf."

Rage floods my system, my wolf demanding blood. I launch myself at her throat, claws first, every ounce of wolf fury behind the strike.

Raising both hands, I gather energy for a killing blow when the world explodes in blinding moonlight.

Serenity stands behind the overturned vehicle, arms extended, immense power pouring from her in waves that set the air howling. The power hits Sybil and sends her flying backward through the forest with enough force to snap tree trunks.

"Touch him again," Serenity snarls, otherworldly light blazing in her eyes, "and I'll show you what real destruction looks like."

Sybil picks herself up from the debris with her white robes torn and bloody, yet she maintains an eerie smile. While we were occupied repelling her attacks and Serenity was busy extricating people from the wreckage, one of her surviving assassins must have seized the moment to ransack our supplies. The man steps out from the shadows now, flanked by the second remaining enforcer, and hands Sybil a waterproof case I recognize as Serenity's evidence cache containing the cathedral ritual recordings and her magical signature analysis.

"Thank you, darling. This will be quite useful for the final preparations." Sybil tucks the device away.

"Give that back!"

"I think not." Sybil backs toward the treeline, her hungry anticipation narrowing her eyes on Serenity. "You've been so helpful, providing us with everything we need. Your power signature and your emotional triggers."

Her two remaining men fall into a tight protective line around Sybil as she retreats. "This isn't over," Serenity growls.

"Oh, but it is, sweet girl." Sybil's smile widens as she melts into the shadows. "You'll come to us soon enough. It's only a matter of time."

They vanish into the darkness, marooning us amidst smoke and destruction.

Serenity rushes to the injured families, soothing light flowing from her hands as she checks for serious wounds. "Everyone stay calm. Help is coming." She quickly creates a subtle compulsion charm over the humans we rescued while dulling their memories of the magical fire so they'll only remember a terrifying but very mundane gas explosion.

Shifting back to human form, I race to Kellan, dropping to my knees beside his broken body. Blood seeps from jagged gashes across his chest, his breathing shallow and labored.

"Hey." I shake his shoulder gently. "Stay with me, Ro."

His eyes flutter open, blank and glazed. Blood bubbles at the corner of his mouth when he tries to smile. "Did we win?"

"We're alive. That counts." His skin shows a striking gray undertone beneath the bronze, and his breathing rattles with a heavy, wet resonance. These distinct markers uncover a profound internal shift, indicating he requires advanced, specialized care far beyond standard compression and gauze.

I lift him as carefully as possible, his weight familiar from years of dragging each other out of firefights. Each step toward our vehicle sends fresh blood dripping onto the scorched earth.