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Syn steps directly in front of me, blocking Bates’ view of me, but I also get the impression he’s silently telling me not to even think about handing myself over. “You won’t touch her, you sick fuck.”
Luna clears her throat delicately. “I hate to agree with a werewolf, but in this case, I agree.”
I glance at my friend, and she meets my gaze. We share a small smile of solidarity. She could have chosen to slip into the crowd and not be associated with me, but she didn’t. Standing by my side puts a target on her back, yet she doesn’t seem to care, and that warms my heart.
“There is no way we are letting you take our mate. Us witches have pride, and we will go down fighting. We don’t sacrifice our own,” Atlas calls out sharply, reminding me that he held a high position within Haven, working underneath my brother. Noises of agreement fill the hall, followed by a shuffling sound as hundreds of people shift their stances. Before, they made themselves small to avoid attention, but they’ve been reminded of their strength and honour and are standing taller as a result.
The atmosphere has become charged, and it will only take one small spark to light the whole thing up. Having one of their own support me and stand against our attackers has riled them up.
Bates seems to realise this and raises an eyebrow. “You’re happy to sacrifice the witches for your own life? What happened to bringing us all together? Your attitude has changed all of a sudden now that your life is on the line.” The accusation is aimed to make my supporters doubt me, but if anything, it just makes them want to fight all the more.
Snorting, I shake my head. “You just told me that either way, they are going to be killed. I have magic that can help them. We will not bow to tyrants like you.” I don’t bother saying anything further, my point made as several witches hoot in agreement.
Bates just laughs, and I wait for his retort, but he’s obviously done talking. His face twists, and he raises his hand in the air, clicking his fingers once. “Go play.”
The werewolves turn on the witches, and pandemonium ensues.
ChapterTwenty-One
The sound of bodies clashing together, and the cacophony of screams, growls, and shouts, is so loud, it’s almost deafening. Most of the males who were in human form have now shifted into their wolves and are joining the fray, their teeth and claws flashing in the dim light of the ballroom. The witches are fighting back, using whatever non-magical fighting skills they possess. The guards seem to be having better luck, but without weapons or magic, the wolves still have the upper hand.
A blur of brown flashes in front of my eyes as a wolf pounces on Joel, wrapping its large jaws around my alpha’s bicep. Grunting in pain and annoyance, Joel punches the wolf in the face, and the others jump to help.
The next fifteen minutes or so are a blur of fighting as I try to work my way through the ballroom, even though it feels like time is stretching on forever. I need to get to Kano and Ivar, not to mention Bates. He seems to have disappeared in the chaos, but I occasionally get a glimpse of him, still in human form, in the melee of fighting.
My magic comes to me easily, my anger fuelling it as I direct star-formed daggers towards our attackers. Star stays with us, protecting our backs. So far, we seem to have come off with only a few injuries, but I have no idea how the rest of the witches are doing. From the glances I’ve managed to sneak, Ivar and Kano are battling furiously before the dais, the queen standing by her throne, watching the battle with a frown.
Of course she’s not fighting. I hope everyone sees her standing there, her people dying as she watches on and does nothing. I needn’t have worried about attempting to expose her true nature, because she’s done it all by herself.
With a quick, frantic look around the room, I see several bodies lying on the ground, their throats torn out. It’s a quick, bloody death, and each person who dies hits me hard in my chest. None of this is necessary, and the witches are taking heavy damage. I need to find out how Bates has managed to block their magic. If I can restore that, then the witches have a fighting chance and can defend themselves.
In the corner, I see a werewolf who seems to be muttering something to himself. His expression is tense with concentration, and as I watch, a bead of sweat rolls down his forehead. Reaching out with my senses, I feel a strange sensation around him that almost feels like… magic.
How is a werewolf using magic? I thought I was the only one, and considering the lengths that the council have gone through to kill me, I find it strange that they allowed this one to survive. Unless he’s working for them? If I’m right, and he’s the one who’s blocking the magic, then that could change everything. It’s a very useful skill for a werewolf to have when witches are your natural enemy.
He’s standing back from the others in the darkness, which isn’t a werewolf trait. We like to run into danger and show off our fighting skills, so he’s either a coward or he’s hiding something. Either way, I’m going to find out. Glancing at my mates, I take in the current situation. Other than Scott, who’s at my side in wolf form, keeping away anyone who breaks through the line of my mates, they are all busy. Not wanting to interrupt them and break their concentration, I mull it over and come up with a plan.
“Scott,” I call softly, gratified as he instantly looks up at me. Tilting my head in the direction of the hidden wolf, I wait a few seconds for him to make the same connections I had. A low growl rumbles in his chest, and the tug in my chest from his bond tells me he understands. Together, we work our way across the room.
It’s pandemonium in here. People move around and get in the way, making our journey long and tedious. However, this helps conceal us. If this werewolf does have magic, then he could try to use it on me if he spots me coming, and although my confidence with my magic has grown, I’m certainly not ready for a duel. Ducking, weaving, and dodging both witches and wolves, I keep my mind focused on one thing.
Perhaps I’m wrong, and he’s actually a witch who’s on their side, but as I move closer and catch a whiff of him, the scent of werewolf greets me. He’s definitely a werewolf. This opens a whole host of confusion and questions, but now is certainly not the time to be asking them. If we survive this whole mess, I can look for answers then.
Just as we reach him, he glances to his left before his eyes lock on me. My instincts tingle, and I glance over just as a huge form appears from behind one of the ballroom pillars, aiming straight for Scott’s exposed neck.
“Scott!” I call out, my heart in my throat. My magic expands as I go to throw a shield around us. Suddenly, my magic slows, moving through my body like treacle. Thankfully, Scott’s reactions are lightning fast, and he’s twisting mid-air to meet the hidden werewolf’s attack head-on.
The two of them lock in a ferocious battle of teeth and claws, snarling and biting at each other. My heart aches, and I want to help Scott, but with my magic not responding properly and the werewolf who just confirmed that hedoeshave magic, I have to put my faith in him. I have my own battle to face.
When I meet my opponent’s gaze, he smiles smugly. He thinks he’s neutralised me like the rest of the witches. What he doesn’t know is that my magic is still there, and itisworking, just at a much slower pace. Keeping that bit of knowledge to myself, I continue to run towards him, my right hook to his face taking him by surprise. He wasn’t expecting me to fight physically, that much is certain.
If he’s anything like most of the magic users I know, his physical fighting skills will be underdeveloped, as they rely on their power to protect them. I’m relying on this fact to help me win this battle, thankful that Atlas and Joel forced me to train physically. If he shifts into his werewolf form, then I’ll be in trouble, but I’m betting that his control over his power is far weaker when he shifts.
Stumbling back from my hit, he instantly touches his face, his anger making his eyes flash with his wolf. My power flickers strongly in my veins for a moment until he grits his teeth, and that sluggish feeling returns. If I can break his concentration, then I can call my magic back and subdue him. At least, that’s the plan.
Of course, he’s still a full-grown male werewolf with instincts faster than my own, so this is going to take all of my skill and concentration. Following up my punch with a double kick, first to his kidneys and then to his head, I throw a barrage of attacks his way, attempting to take advantage of the fact that he’s been taken off guard. Unfortunately, he recovers quickly enough to block my attacks, but I notice the strain on his face as he attempts to keep whatever magical block he’s creating from collapsing. Keeping up my attack, I narrowly manage to dodge most of his counter attacks. My cheek stings from when I took a hit, and my right shoulder is screaming at me from where he jerked my arm back, but otherwise, I’m managing to hold my own.
I’m exhausted, which means that he must be struggling even more. I’m not using any magic, and here he is, trying to defend himself and keep hundreds of witches’ power blocked. He’s bound to slip up sooner or later.
