Page 121 of Revenant

A wolf peels from the remaining pack still inside the dome and goes for Moriah from behind.

It’s as if someone else takes control of my body, someone who knows exactly what they’re doing. Without a second thought, my body moves on autopilot just as the wolf launches into the air and Moriah’s name gets lodged in my throat. I lift my hand without a second thought, palm facing the sky, and twist. Somewhere under my skin, my magic answers like a hellhound waiting at the gates to be released, patiently awaiting the command to unleash its destruction.

The wolf’s leg snaps mid-air. It hits the stones with a bone-chilling crunch, right before the echo of its body ricochets throughout the sphere.

It doesn’t get back up. Doesn’t even make a sound as it lies there paralyzed.

“Spawn.” Bastian’s voice sounds to my left as if it’s coming from the other end of a tunnel. His palm is flat between my shoulder blades. “You cannot hold this for much longer. Do you hear me?” Barely. It’s like my head is underwater, every word he’s saying comes in muted tones. But his last instructions I hear loud and clear, as if my body needed them in order to keep going. “You have to end this. Finish them.”

I tip my chin up toward the top of the dome, my mouth falling open as the power washes over me. The witches’ hums grow louder, the intoxicating rush of their magic mixing with mine, pulsing through me until a sound erupts, one older than I am and so unrecognizable I question whether it’s me at all. The tornado of power rages against my insides, building stronger and begging for release. Suddenly it stops feeling as though I’ll explode; instead of a flood of mass destruction, it begins to feel like a beautiful flowing current with a sense of direction.

A wicked smile spreads over my face, and I get to work.

My head snaps to Koen, a wolf sinking his teeth into his arm. A silent command, a flick of my wrist, and the wolf drops instantly.

Two try flanking Elias at the north. Both of my hands push forward toward their forms—flick, flick. They fall without so much as a whimper.

Of course, because it would be too easy to take on someone their own size, one of the bigger wolves in the pack stalks Sage—the smallest vampire in the courtyard. It licks its lips, crouching down before it pounces.

It doesn’t get the chance to land its mark.

Sage flinches as if she felt my attack on the wolf in her own neck, and I file that away for a night when I have time to actually feel bad about it.

One by one the wolves go down, as if I’m walking through my house turning off lamps on my way to bed. I don’t count them. I’m just finding the next one, flicking my wrist and moving onto the next.

Adrenaline is a beautiful, glorious thing. It pumps through my veins with a vengeance, nearly causing me to black out from the force.

By the time the remaining pack outside the dome clocks that their alpha isn’t coming to save them, the rest that still stand inevitably start retreating.

Wolves know how to lose. They turn the way a tide does—all at once, no consensus needed—and the treeline on the west side of the quad takes them three and four at a time. Until the only one left standing outside my circle is Tristan Carrow, with his face cut open from muzzle to eye staring at his sister.

It’s hard to tell what the look in his eyes means. Betrayal? Revenge? Who knows? Either way, he runs—leaving whatever words unsaid between them.

I watch the darkness close around him, and I hold the dome up while the guys move through the quad and into the common room, checking the casualties, kneeling over the ones they can’t save—humans caught in the crossfire. Students whose parents are never getting a phone call that makes sense—and I keep it up because I want Tristan to know exactly who the fuck he messed with tonight.

And then, finally…the way you let out a breath you’ve been holding in for far too long, I let go.

The light bleeds out of the air above the courtyard in a long exhale that smells absurdly like rain, the pressure behind my sternum eases, and for the first time since I dragged the stone across my palm, I remember I have a body. A body that’s been pushed to its limits and is very, very tired.

My knees give out.

Bastian is already there before they hit the letter C carved into the stone.

38: Bastian

I haven’t slept. Not a fucking wink. Adrenaline still pumps through my veins with a vengeance, part of me is telling me that if I were to close my eyes, even for a moment, something bad will happen.

I can’t take that chance.

Instead, I’ve spent the night with Alicent curled into my body. After the attack, I brought her back to my room, not leaving any other option up for discussion. She was covered in blood, most of it hers from the cuts on her palms. Once we made it back to my room, I washed her without hesitation, making sure when she woke up at least there weren’t any memories staining her skin.

She only woke once during the night—her body and mind too exhausted to allow anything else. Her scream was loud enough to fill the entire wing, chest heaving as she hyperventilated, her skin coated in a thin sheen of sweat. She hasn’t stopped touching me since then. Subconsciously seeking me out in her sleep.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

For a brief moment, I thought it was Eryx. Playing tricks on her, infiltrating her dreams to scare her because that’s who he is. Unapologetically torturing her without showing a semblance of remorse. Thankfully he disappeared when the fight ended. I’m not sure what I would’ve done had he been there when it was all said and done. The smell of her blood was intoxicating, enough to drive any one of us mad.

But he’s the only one that’s proven he has no restraint.