I see the fire in their eyes. Their wolves know and they know it in their hearts—I’mthe true alpha.
Lucan must also feel the shift in the air because he nods to his goons.
Eight of his personal guards rush me from every angle. Five in their human forms and three as wolves. The shifters are armed with swords, daggers, and knives. One has a large mace with nasty-looking spikes on the metal ball. The behemoth growls as he swings it at my head.
I duck under the whizzing ball and land a hard punch to his gut, sending him stumbling back with a grunt. Someone grabs me from behind, so I yank his arm and throw him over my shoulder into an approaching wolf.
Another comes with a dagger, swinging it at my throat. I grab his arm, strip the blade from his grip, and throw him to the ground. He tries to get up, so I kick him back down.
But there are just too many of them. A lunging wolf lands on my back, his claws sinking into my flesh. Fists land in my stomach, an elbow cracks me in the jaw. I hit a few of them, but more blows rain down on me, fists and feet and claws.
I fight for every inch but I’m outnumbered and still slow from my barely healed wounds that nearly killed me a week ago.
Something slams into the back of my head—the pommel of a sword probably—and I fall to my knees, dazed. Strong arms wrap around my neck, holding me from behind in a headlock. I thrash my arms back to grab him, but hands wrap around my wrists, holding my arms out with unbreakable grips.
Lucan approaches with a wicked smile, loving that I’m being forced to my knees.
“That’s right, cousin. Kneel before your king.”
He flashes a warning look to the high priest and then spreads his arms out as the high priest rushes over with the crown.
“No!” I roar, fury and anger and indignation giving me a burst of energy. I throw one man off and punch another, staggering him. But more jump on me, holding me down as I struggle to get free. A fresh arm wraps around my neck.
It can’t end like this.
My cousincannotbe king.
But all I can do is watch in horror as the high priest raises the crown above his head.
My stomach sinks as I watch my father’s crown—the crown of the Stormfur Realm, nine generations of my bloodline hammered into gold—descending toward my cousin’s unworthy skull and I cannot stop it. I have never felt so helpless in my life.
The crown is an inch from Lucan’s head.
No…
Something whistles over my head.
An emerald-tipped arrow whooshes past me and slams into the crown with a deafeningclang. The crown explodes out of the high priest’s hands and clatters across the stone dais, rolling and spinning to a stop at the edge.
I turn and see my mate, my queen, my everything, standing among my people like a warrior goddess, bow raised, a cool expression on her face like she’s done this a thousand times. Behind her are the new friends I’ve made—Valther, Edrik, Petr, Briallen, Isen, Zephan, and Drakor. They’re all armed with their emerald weapons, looking ready to kick some ass.
“Go!” Calista roars as she hands the bow back to Briallen.
My spirits soar as they rush toward me.
“Humans?” someone in the crowd shouts. “Here?”
Everyone looks confused as they sprint past them. Lucan’s guard turns to meet them and the grip on me loosens as wolf shifters peel away to deal with the new threat. I grab the last remaining arm on my neck and throw him over my shoulder. He lands on his back just as Calista’s crew collides with Lucan’s guards.
The humans fight with a ferocity that makes the watching pack gasp. With his emerald daggers, Valther takes two guards down simultaneously with an efficiency that would impress my father’s best warriors.
Edrik is fast and clever, darting under punches and using the guards’ size against them. He weaves under a right hook and then grabs the guard’s shirt using his momentum to trip him.
Briallen quickly puts three arrows in the ribs of a wolf that’s about to leap on Calista. He slumps to the ground.
Petr and Drakor are fighting together, back to back, cracking anyone who gets close.
And Calista is in the middle of it all, moving through the violent chaos like she was built for it. Her movements are fluidand fierce, and utterly fearless. She swings that emerald sword, cutting down wolves and shifters and clearing a path toward me with every step.
