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Crawl? Not fucking likely. I’ve crawled enough for other people to last me a lifetime!
I plant my hands on the ground, one of my fingers landing on some leaves growing out of the crack of the dirty floor. It’s difficult to use my warlock abilities right now because of how the drug is attacking my system. But I refuse to be a victim again. It’s a vow I made to myself all those years ago.
I summon all my strength and feel the ground rumble. As do the shifters.
Looks of alarm settle on their faces. “What the hell?”
I smile weakly, not hiding my rage. “Retribution, assholes,”
The ground bursts open and long thin vines race towards the panther shifters. They howl in fear and jump out of the way. I laugh angrily, as the vines change direction, almost as if they have a mind of their own and chase the shifters.
“It’s her!” one of them shouts. “She’s controlling them!”
“How?!” his companion hisses. “The dealer said—ugh!”
He’s thrown against a wall by one of the vines and there’s a loud cracking sound as he slumps to the ground, unconscious.
“Knock her out!” One of the panthers screams.
I see three of them rush towards me. While the vines manage to stop two of them, one of them manages to get through. His claws extended, he slashes against my neck, aiming for the most vulnerable part. Even as I try to defend myself, the already seeping blood has weakened me considerably.
I feel his claws slash through neck, and a gurgling sound echoes in my ears as my vision blurs. I see the vines suddenly fall to the ground, and I, too, slump down weakly.
Dammit!
My healing abilities are nowhere close to an actual shifter’s, but they’re fast. While these wounds are fatal, they might not kill me if I’m given enough time to heal.
They are advancing on me and my fingers twitch as I try to common up some strength. Just a small spell to buy myself some time, but it’s hard for me to even think.
Maybe I should consider releasing the magic that is subduing my Lycan side?
The decision has to be made fast. If they find out I’m a hybrid, I’ll have to kill them because if I let even one of them escape, it will come back to haunt me.
Just as I’m about to release the magic, I hear one of the panther shifters grunt before he is thrown against the wall by a moving shadow.
“You again?!”
My vision is too blurred to be able to make out anything concrete. All I can see is a large figure snarling and tossing around the panther shifters as if they are nothing more than rag dolls.
I’m struggling to breathe, feeling my skin stitch together at a very slow speed. My head is light from the blood loss.
I don’t know at what point I stop hearing the sounds of fighting, but something is nudging me before a hand cups my face and a familiar voice reaches my ears.
“Seline!”
There’s panic and worry in the voice, and underlying all that is a confused fear.
Austin?
