He heaved a sigh, knowing she was right.
Snarling erupted from outside, and she shoved Kincade aside, grabbing for her clothing, when Atlas caught her wrist. She turned, chin raised in defiance, resisting the urge to break his hold. “You won’t talk me out of going.”
“I know. You’re nothing if not stubborn.” He gave her a wry grin, which quickly melted away.
She quirked a brow at him, but before she had a chance to speak, he slipped the Faerie clothing over her head. It cascaded down her body, lengthening and tightening to wrap around her curves until she was covered from neck to boots in battle gear. The soft material should’ve felt flimsy and weak, but she knew from experience that it was stronger than even chainmail.
When she would’ve protested that he should be wearing it, he shot her a harsh look. “It’s the only way you’re walking out that door. If you don’t like it, you can stay.”
Her teeth clinked together when her mouth snapped shut.
She knew better than to argue with him when he was in that mood.
They headed out together, the guys falling into formationaround her until she was in the center. She didn’t complain about the maneuver, used to their antics by now. The men didn’t crowd her, giving her enough space to move if attacked, so she really didn’t have room to complain.
It wasn’t a fight she could win.
They stepped outside to see metal wolves fighting against ferals, and her heart sank as the churning mass of animals savaged each other. The wounded lay scattered through the yard. Though injured, none of the ferals relented. They dragged themselves back to their feet and attacked again and again.
Dozens of her pack were incapacitated, but thankfully, not dead.
When she would’ve gone to help them, Ryder grabbed her arm and held her back. “You can’t touch them. You can’t risk being infected again.”
Even as he spoke, the air shifted, and a fine dust swirled at the edges of the barrier. The back of her throat burned, her nose stung, even her eyes watered. A couple of the ferals staggered, then dropped to the ground, their sides heaving, and she quickly lifted her arm, burying her face into the crook of her elbow. “It’s in the air! Don’t breathe!”
“Stay back.” Ascher leapt down the stairs, lifting his hands. The air around him rippled, heat coming off him in waves, then flames shot into the air. Tiny particles caught fire until the night sparkled as the poisoned particles burned out.
For a full minute, the sky was on fire.
Only when the air burned clean did Morgan leap down the stairs after him. When the flames burned out and his arms dropped to his sides, Morgan slipped her arms around his waist, barely catching him when he sagged. She dragged him over to the bottom steps, then eased him down, the heat of him tingling against her palms.
His chest heaved as he gulped fresh air. Sweat plastered his hair to his head. His clothes were still smoking, scorched in spots. She was surprised he remained conscious after expendingso much effort, and she curled her hands into fists to keep from patting him down to make sure he was okay.
“Go,” he wheezed out, waving her off. “I’m fine.”
Morgan straightened reluctantly when the rest of her mates joined them. As much as she wanted to stay by Ascher’s side, they needed to discover who’d orchestrated the attack.
The yard resembled a disaster zone, blood splattered across the grass, the ground torn up by claws. Most of the wolves were on the ground. The metal wolves sniffed at the intruders, pawing at them, seeming content when they didn’t get back up.
Morgan glanced at the others in confusion, unease creeping down her spine like spiders crawling across her skin. “Why attack using wolves, then poison them before they finish? It doesn’t make any sense.”
A shotgun ratchetted from beyond the wards, and a dozen men dressed in combat gear stepped out from behind the trees, each of them armed. Not an inch of skin showed, each of the soldiers wearing masks and goggles. While they might look like humans, a tinge of magic and wildness vibrated in the air around them.
Wolves.
It explained how they got past the outer wards. So many wolves were seeking sanctuary that she’d allowed them access to the property. But she wasn’t stupid. A second ward guarded the house. It was a lot more selective, only allowing a few chosen people across the grounds.
No way was she taking any chances with her mates’ safety.
And now they were surrounded.
A man in the shadows caught her attention. He was different from the rest of them. Before she could figure out what was bothering her, one of the soldiers strutted through the rest and pulled off his hood and mask.
Morgan instantly recognized the asshole, and rage simmered in her veins. “Alpha Carrington. I should’ve guessed. Only a weasel like you would attack wolves desperate to leave your lackluster leadership.”
The smug grin on his face morphed into a snarl of unholy fury. “The instant they left, they became the enemy. No one leaves without paying the price. That they came to you only sweetened the deal.”
Morgan couldn’t believe the ego on the bastard. “And the ferals?”
