LISA
Everything in my head has narrowed into one simple thought, repeated over. And over. Until my heart’s every beat repeats the ssage, until my soul feels like it’s shredding apart.
Kellan’s in danger.
My Kellan.
The man who’s never once pushed past my comfort zone. The man who’s stood quietly behind . Loyal. Patient. Sweet and protective.
He stole my heart so quietly, I didn’t notice it was gone.
Each breath burns in my lungs, but I push through it. Thank God for whatever magic the Magister cast on —my legs shouldn’t be able to move this fast.
The oversized Fae keeps pace beside , his long robes sohow never catching on the underbrush. Pain lances through my thigh with every step, threatening to buckle my knees. I grit my teeth and shove it down.
There’s sothing else inside now, sothing which makes every other pain insignificant. A hollowness in my chest, expanding with every heartbeat. This feeling—like soone’s carved out sothing essential from my body. Terror and love and need so powerful I can barely breathe around it.
Kellan’s in danger. I need to see him—touch him—make sure he’s safe.
Lucas throws up a fist, and our strange procession slows. I bite back a curse. We’re too slow. Every second wasted is another Kellan faces alone.
But I don’t know what’s happening or what Lucas has sensed, so I ignore the impatience in my veins and stick close to Magister Orion, following Lucas’s deliberate movents through the snow.
The Alpha’s arm cuts through the air in a sharp motion, and suddenly we’re moving again—faster, more urgent, angling left of our original path. The wolves around us surge forward, like a wave breaking on shore.
The wind shifts, carrying the unmistakable sounds of battle. Snarls and screams pierce the night air. My heart hamrs against my ribs like it wants to break free and reach Kellan first.
So of the wolves peel away, following commands I didn’t hear. I don’t care. My focus locks onto Lucas’s broad back—he’s my compass in this chaos. Where he fights, Kellan will be.
Magister Orion’s fingers brush my shoulder as we run, his voice soft beside my ear. The language he speaks sounds like water over stone, musical and otherworldly. A strange tingle washes over my skin, starting from his touch and spreading outward until I’m wrapped in what feels like the thinnest layer of static electricity.
"A barrier," he says simply.
Luckily, I’ve been around Ava enough to understand. It’s a defensive ward. Protection.
"Thanks."
We burst into a clearing, and the scene before us is utter chaos.
My thigh explodes with white-hot agony, so sudden and intense that soone might as well have taken a blowtorch to the flesh. Sothing pulls at my mind, yanking my consciousness sideways, trying to tear away from myself.
Co to , my little Fae-blessed lover.
The voice isn’t audible—it’s inside my head, slithering through my thoughts, and I know exactly who it belongs to. The Mad Prince.
"No," I whisper, though no one can hear through the cacophony of battle.
Only the ache in my chest anchors —my desperate need to find Kellan. I refuse to give in to the compulsion. My leg nearly gives out beneath , but I lock my knee and stagger forward.
Magister Orion’s hand clamps around my upper arm, steadying as Lucas and the others charge into the fray. They’re fighting impossibly fast figures, people with pale skin and long hair, covered in blood.
So many of them. How many? We outnumber them, but all the corpses on the ground are... wolves.
No. There. A vampire, its throat torn out. My heart slows a little with hope, only to race again as the corpse sits up.
The Magister points a hand in its direction, with another lodic phrase, and the vampire’s head bursts into a splash of blood and bone fragnts.
My stomach churns, but the body falls back against the ground.
"They aren’t human," the Fae says calmly, already pointing at another. "You have to render recovery impossible. Take off their heads. Losing an arm or a leg is nothing to these creatures. They can’t bleed to death, either. If you’re going to cut their throat, you need to take off their head."
Noted.
I take a deep breath, grimacing at the pain in my head. It feels like my brain’s trying to split apart.
The two of us are in the back, slightly removed from the chaos of battle. I’m not a fighter—at least, not like them. And the Magister won’t leave my side, which boosts my confidence. The Magister raises his hands, murmuring his strange, musical words again. The air around us stirs with power.
I lift my arm, the familiar weight of my gno-tinkered magitech brace settling the panic trying to cloud my head. It’s fine. I can fight my own way; I won’t be a burden on these people, who have risked their lives to keep safe.
But there are no clear shots. Even the Magister hesitates.
Too much movent, too many allies in the way. The hundreds of bodies we have brought outnumber the vampires, but it also makes it impossible to provide cover fire.
I scan the writhing mass of bodies desperately. Where is he? Where’s Kellan?
My head pounds with each pulse of pain from my thigh. Compulsion claws at my skull. The ghost of his bite burns like acid, and I swear I can feel sothing moving beneath the surface.
Co to .
"Shut up," I hiss through clenched teeth. The feeling of compulsion is sickening, like a slimy hand grasping my soul. Nothing like the bond Kellan shares with .
I never want to give in again.
Never.
The battle rages, a blur of fur and fangs and blood on the snow. Lucas is no longer Lucas, but Aurum, and he tears through a vampire with terrifying efficiency, his massive jaws wrapping around one’s head to rip it clear off its shoulders.
People are dying, but the tide of battle seems... positive.
A flash of familiar russet fur appears at the edge of my vision, and my heart stops. There—Kellan, locked in combat with two vampires at once. His jaws snap, catching one vampire’s arm. Three wolves co to aid him, and blood sprays across the snow. Movent, too fast for my human eyes to follow, and then there are two more corpses on the ground. Kellan’s still standing, swaying, but both vampires are still standing—
My body moves before my brain can catch up. The pain in my thigh recedes beneath a flood of adrenaline. I raise my wrist, the brace humming with energy as I aim.
"Lisa, wait!" Magister Orion calls after , but I’m already moving.
Two wolves in the way.
I just need to go a little more left.
A little more.
The Grand Sage has focused on efficiency, listening to my complaints about the steps to engage my brace. It no longer relies solely on vocal commands; there’s now a streamlined button I can press for a specialized option—a lance of fire.
All I need is thirty feet and an unobstructed view of my target.
Three steps.
Two.
One.
I’ve practiced a thousand tis, and can gauge thirty feet with a hundred percent accuracy.
I have a clear shot.
I press the button and a bolt of fire flies. It takes only the tiniest fraction of a second to reach its mark, striking the second vampire in the shoulder. The force is enough to rip his arm off at the joint.
Not a kill shot, but enough to tear a shriek out of his throat, and to take his attention off my mate.
Magister Orion whispers sothing from behind , and this vampire’s head also explodes in a shower of organic matter.
"Why not do that to all of them?" I ask, lowering my arm with a curse. People are in the way.
"Magic isn’t infallible, Lisa. I, too, need an unobstructed line of fire." He yanks at my shoulder, pulling out of the way of a wolf thrown ten yards.
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