But then why offer her friendship and protection?
She leans closer, her voice dropping. “You are more than just a shifter. If you train, you have the power to change the future. You just need to survive long enough. You are stronger than you can ever imagine. Push to find answers. You’ll need them if you want to stay ahead of the coming danger.”
Without giving me time to ask questions, she opens the door and steps into pure chaos.
Part of me wants to bolt in the opposite direction, run away from her prophetic words. The only thing that keeps me rooted to the spot is that I don’t sense she is a threat.
Does she know about my kind?
I thought I was the last kismet alive.
I step after the witch, determined to keep her alive. If she knows anything about my heritage, it could mean the difference between life and death.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
FRANKIE
Pandemonium reigns in the streets. Between the cattle, the flooding, and the men scrambling to put out the fire, it’s pure mayhem.
No one even notices us in the chaos.
The shifters were told to keep watch. The instant they spotted us, they were instructed to leave. After the abuse they endured, they’re not strong enough for a full battle. A few of them hesitate, but they ultimately charge toward the safety of the tree line.
My attention catches on a black ball of smoke behind the church, and my brows shoot up at seeing the large flames licking at the sky. The massive cloud blocks out the light, overshadowing the whole town, leaving everyone in a menacing darkness.
When I finally catch sight of what the guys lit on fire, I curse their crazy asses.
It’s a motherfucking gas station.
I barely process the sight before an explosion rocks the ground. A massive fireball explodes outward, the concussiveblast shimmering in the air, the giant wave spreading in every direction. My feet slosh in the ankle-high water as I charge toward Isobel and tackle her to the ground.
Icy water soaks me from head to foot as I do my best to cover her from the blast, then I grunt when Garth’s massive wolf practically smothers us when he dive-bombs over us. Air is knocked from my lungs seconds before a wave of near blistering heat sweeps over the street.
My eyeballs feel like someone took a blowtorch to them, and I see everyone is knocked on their ass. The cattle scream and scatter in every direction, trampling anyone who can’t get out of the way.
The already unstable building across from us sways alarmingly, giant cracks slowly forming over the brick surface. If someone sneezes in that direction, it’s going to collapse. Worry for Bellamy pitches my stomach, and I hate that I don’t know if a dragon can survive being buried under a ton of rubble.
Before the worry can take root, he casually strolls out of the front door like nothing happened, not a speck of water daring to mar him. Even as I watch, water freezes under his feet, wisps of cold vapors whirling around his form, the man appearing like a god walking amongst mortals…while I resemble a drowned rat.
I grimace when dirty water squishes through my clothes with every breath. For the first time since meeting him, my confidence wavers. I’ve always known he was dangerous, but I didn’t realize just how much.
Did I really manage to take him in a fight?
Or did he allow me to win?
Doubts leave me even more suspicious of his motives.
Dragging my eyes away, I glance around at the destruction. The crackling of fire is the only sound for a moment, and I wiggle out from under Garth’s ginormous frame. I swear the beastpouts before reluctantly retreating. I drag myself to my feet, staggering a little, then offer a hand to Isobel.
The silence around us is eerie, only broken by a few painful groans. A couple of others scattered throughout the streets rise to their feet, glancing around with confusion, probably wondering what the fuck happened.
That’s when I spot Tyler and Dante smirking at me as they calmly saunter toward us, the two idiots smeared head to toe in soot.
I carefully search them for any burns. Thankfully, they’re relatively unhurt, sporting only a few bruises, and the tightness in my chest eases. While I want to curse at the idiots for taking such unnecessary risks, I can’t say that I’m mad.
Tyler is wearing a pair of shorts that cling dangerously low on his hips, while Dante is left wearing his jeans. Neither of them bothered with a shirt or shoes. Something about the way they strut toward me, the swagger in their step, has my wolf drooling.
Fuck, who am I kidding?
