Page 80 of Roaring Spell

“Predictable.” Valesh’s voice carries across the clearing. Calm. Almost amused. “Every witch with mate potential is the same. So eager to run toward danger. So convinced that love conquers all.”

“Turn off the siphon.” I step forward despite Torin’s grip on my arm. “It’s over, Valesh. We have the evidence. The Network knows. The coven knows. Whatever you’re trying to accomplish⁠—”

“What I’m trying to accomplish is already in motion.” She gestures at the siphon, which pulses brighter in response. “In less than an hour, this device reaches full power. When it discharges, it will collapse every ward within five miles. The Warding Line protecting Mistvale will fall. And everything the Preservers have worked for—everything the Severing accomplished—will be preserved for another generation.”

“People will die.”

“Some, perhaps. A small price for maintaining the natural order.” Her eyes find mine, cold and certain. “You could have avoided this, you know. If you’d just left when we warned you. If you’d stopped pursuing the bear and accepted that your kind and his kind were never meant to mix.”

“My kind?” Anger sparks in my chest, and lightning answers—crackling across my knuckles, illuminating the clearing in sharp white light. “What exactly is ‘my kind’?”

“Abominations.” Valesh’s lip curls. “Witches with mate potential. Freaks of magical nature who could form claiming ties with shifters if left unchecked.” She steps closer to the siphon, her hand resting on its pulsing surface. “Centuries ago, before the Severing, your kind nearly destroyed the magical world. Witch-shifter pairings grew so powerful that they threatened the balance. The Preservers stopped it. Cut the ties. Ensured that such unnatural unions could never happen again.”

“But they are happening again.”

“A temporary setback. One we’re correcting.” She glances at Torin, contempt clear on her face. “The bear should never have pursued you. His instincts are corrupted, twisted by the remnants of old magic that should have been eradicated. When you’re both dead, perhaps the lesson will finally stick.”

Torin growls—low and dangerous, his bear rising to the surface. I feel the change rippling through him, the shift from man to predator barely contained.

“You’re not killing anyone tonight.” My voice comes out flat. Cold. The calm before the storm. “Turn off the siphon, Valesh. Last chance.”

“No.” She smiles. “I don’t think I will.”

She raises her hand.

The Preservers attack without warning.

Magic erupts from the woods in every direction—binding spells, energy blasts, a dark and corrosive force that sizzles through the air toward my face. I throw up a shield of wind, deflecting the assault, but the impact drives me backward.

“Sakura!” Torin’s voice, already deeper, already shifting.

“I’m fine! Deal with them!”

He shifts.

The transformation is violent—bones cracking, muscles reforming, fur erupting across skin. His clothes, spelled like every shifter’s to weather the change instead of shredding, fold into the shift and vanish with it. In seconds, the man is gone and a massive Kodiak bear stands in his place. Bigger than any natural bear, with intelligent eyes that still hold a spark of the man I care about.

He roars.

The sound shakes the trees. The Preservers hesitate, just for a moment, and Torin charges.

He crashes into the nearest attacker with the force of an avalanche. The man goes down, screaming, and Torin is already spinning toward the next threat. Claws flash. Blood sprays. The clearing becomes a chaos of combat and magic.

I can’t watch. Can’t help him. Because Valesh is moving toward the siphon, hands weaving patterns that make the device pulse faster. Brighter.

Stop her.

I unleash my elements.

Wind screams across the clearing, tearing at Valesh’s clothing, driving her back from the siphon. She staggers, throws up a shield of her own power, but I’m already following with rain—sharp and hard, each drop charged with elemental energy.

“Impressive.” She deflects my assault with a gesture. “Your control has improved since you arrived. The bear’s influence, no doubt.”

“My control. My power. Mine.”

“Is it?” She circles to my left, and I turn with her, keeping myself between her and the siphon. “You were unstable before. Creating disasters everywhere you went. Now suddenly you can direct your elements with precision? That’s not growth. That’s corruption. The mate pull changing you into what they need you to be.”

“You’re wrong.”