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When the charging troops were no more than twenty feet away from the manor, the townspeople sprung at them from all sides. They leapt out of windows, rushed out of doors, or poured out of the forest—their aim to box in the troops and decimate them.
Wynter watched as sheer chaos unfolded up ahead of her. There were roars, growls, screams, battle cries, and the clanging of swords. Energy balls, orbs of fire, and flashes of magick lit up the darkness. Lycans and other shapeshifting creatures galloped around, lunging at troops and tearing into them with teeth and claws. Dragons took to the air and began blasting enemies with ice-cold breaths or white-hot flames.
It wasn’t a case of packs, lairs, covens, conclaves, nests, courts, and hordes fighting individually. The townspeople all fought as one, along with the people who’d been called here to fight by the Ancients who owned their souls.
“It’s becoming pretty clear that the troops weren’t expecting such a resistance, let alone such a well-coordinated attack,” said Wynter. “They’re flapping.”
“Maybe they thought a population made up of so many preternatural breeds couldn’t possibly fight well together, given they often fight among themselves,” mused Xavier. “If so, they were wrong. And they’re realizing it far too late.”
That wasn’t leading anyone to retreat, though. On the contrary, in fact, the troops who’d evaded the attacking townspeople were almost on her and the rest of the people lined before the manor.
Feeling charged from head to toe, Wynter lifted her sword and angled it just right, conscious of Xavier and Anabel/Mary—who each stood either side of her—doing the same. Wynter licked her lips, ready and eager. “Get ready, people.” It was just as Anabel/ Mary began singing Queen’s “Don’t Stop Me Now” that a troop swung his sword at Wynter. She parried the blow and pitched her body forward to shove him back.
And so it began.
She twisted this way and that way as she struck at the asshole again and again. He didn’t aim to kill but to incapacitate. She fought hard, refusing to give him the opening he needed. When the crow flew at his face, taking him off-guard, Wynter wasted no time in impaling him on her sword.
He’d no sooner dropped to the ground than another troop charged her, but he was swiftly taken down by the monstrous cat that made no bones about ripping out his throat.
More and more troops came forward. They knew Wynter, knew that her blade was enchanted, knew that their skin wasn’t truly covered in insects. But the enchantment still distracted the fuck out of them, and she never hesitated to take advantage—slitting throats, puncturing hearts, slicing off heads.
She didn’t only use her blade, she also struck out with her magick. This time, she didn’t hold back power-wise. The toxic magick burned, infected, blistered, withered, and charred as it killed. Which meant that many of Xavier’s reanimated corpses looked so absolutelyhideousit was nauseating.
“Fuck,” he spat as he accidentally bumped into her.
She stumbled slightly, and the bastard dueling with her lunged forward and almost accidentally severed her head clean off her neck. She jerked back out of reach, but the tip of his sword nonetheless slashed her face.Motherfucking ow.
He grinned at the wound, but his expression morphed into one of horror when Anabel/Mary hacked off his extended arm with a smile. The huge cat then pounced, finishing him off, while Anabel/Mary went back to singing—choosing Elton John’s “I’m Still Standing” this time as she expertly swung her sword to slice and block.
Wynter swore as an overgrown coyote pretty much flew at her. One of Xavier’s corpse-friends caught it, and both beast and zombie hit the ground hard. Together, Wynter and Xavier speared the coyote before it had the chance to rise.
“Our side definitely has the upper hand,” he said before then beginning to chant as he reanimated the dead coyote.
Panting, Wynter took a moment to drink in her surroundings and found that she had to agree with him. Plenty of mangled bodies were sprawled on the ground, but most were invaders from Aeon.
Not all those fighting were engaged in close-up combat. Some covens and conclaves stood off to the side and attacked with magick. Some fey attacked with elemental power while others shot arrows coated in dust that she knew caused all kinds of shit, including confusion, memory loss, lethargy, muscle pain, sensory paralysis, and—
Another troop rushed her.
“Hell.” Bracing herself, she slammed up her sword. Their blades clashed again and again as they fought with all they had.
It turned out that her opponent didn’t ‘have’ enough.
She punched her sword into his gut and viciously twisted the blade before yanking it out. He dropped like a stone, and then she saw that the Moonstar coven wasn’t too far behind him.
Ho, ho, ho, how fabulous.
Awarning from Esther had the nearby troops edging away from her coven to avoid any magickal blows, providing her a clear path to Wynter. It was very wise of the troops to move. Because this would get ugly—Wynter would make sure of it. She had a score to settle.
Taking a quick scan of the witches fanned out behind Esther, Wynter noticed there was no sign of Rafe. Either he’d found some way to sit out the battle or the coven had left him behind, not trusting that he would fully back them.
“Who the fuck is this bitch glaring at you?” asked Xavier, frowning as said bitch effortlessly destroyed the puppets he sent her way.
“That would be Esther,” replied Wynter, not needing to elaborate. She’d already told her crew all about the Moonstar witches.
His eyes narrowing, Xavier twirled his sword. “I don’t suppose you’ll let me kill her, will you?”
“Nope, this one’s mine.” Once the Priestess came to a halt several feet away, Wynter smiled at her and said, “I can’t tell you how delighted I am that you’re here.”
