Wicked Wolves, page 10
Pummeling through our magic, he ignores the screaming of our wards and threatening howls of our approaching warriors. It's as if they don't even exist to him at all.
Because he's ancient. Powerful. I can feel it in the air, can sense it in my bones.
There's only one thing that can fight him properly: the gods themselves.
Rushing back to the center of the Mating Circle, I push my palms against the stones and repeat the spell.
"With this sacrifice, I call to power..."
I stumble over the rest of the words as fast as I dare. As I finish the spell, I worry for a split second that I've said them wrong and will have to do it again.
The power of the wellspring rises up inside me, powerful and eager to meet my sacrifice.
At the same time, the invading werewolves meet our warriors at the foot of the Mating Circle. They're outnumbered two-to-one, but the First Alpha doesn't seem to be concerned. He fights with an eagerness I've never seen before, as if he's on a mission.
My heart lurches as I imagine what that mission could be. Maybe one rejection isn't enough for him. Maybe he's here to finish the job his brother started.
The claw marks on my chest burn in remembered agony.
Breaking away from the visions the warriors' eyes give me, I concentrate instead on the here and now. It's even harder this time to draw on the power as I stand up. It feels like I'm fighting against its very nature. Even though the wards are no longer fighting the invaders—they're too far into the territory for that—the coven has started to draw on the wellspring's power for their spells. Each witch has years of experience with magic, and I barely have minutes. But I do my best to resist them, gritting my teeth as I pull the power for myself instead.
Maybe it's my determination, or the strength of my sacrifice. Maybe it's that this spell came from the gods, or that the wolf reborn inside me came from the wellspring itself. Either way, I manage to draw on enough power to summon the gods again.
Tears sting my eyes as the gods reappear around me. Their strength, their wisdom, their power—it's all I need.
Especially because the First Alpha is coming.
Chapter 27
Rina
There's a commotion at the bottom of the Mating Circle stairs. Raising my hands, I let the power flow through me, desperate for the gods to be here.
"C'mon, c'mon..." Lucian reaches for me again, and I almost feel his fingers. "You can do it, Rina. Just a little bit more."
There's a roar of anger. I turn my head, and my heart leaps into my throat in fear.
His wolf form is huge and unmistakable. Jet black fur ripples in the wind that accompanies Lucian's summoning. The crescent star on his forehead is so sharply defined that it almost looks fake, and in the glow of magic and starlight, it seems to pulse with power.
As the First Alpha comes for me, his white-dipped front paw digging into the stones, I feel nothing but terror.
He was supposed to be my mate. My protector. The destiny that was chosen for me before I was even born.
Instead he's something out of a nightmare, but far more real.
But I'm not alone in the center of this Mating Circle. The gods are with me, at least almost.
With a sweep of his hands and a glare from his dark eyes, Adar grabs the fire from the plinth and throws it like it's a physical object. Flames run through the air and hit the First Alpha.
I swallow, expecting him to scream in pain as his skin and fur burns.
Instead he just shakes himself off, skidding to a stop and snarling. His eyes are centered on me. Slowly, he stalks towards me, his claws digging into the stones.
I feel a surge of psychic power, and wince as his voice shouts into my head, forcing its way into my mind unnaturally. Stop that spell right now.
He shouldn't be able to do that. Only alphas and occasionally mates can use telepathy, and the First Alpha is neither to me. We don't even have a destiny thread between us anymore—if that's what that was.
But I'm obviously not going to listen to him. Instead of stopping the spell, I pull on more power from the wellspring, which eagerly leaps to my fingertips. Raising my hands up, I spin slowly in a circle, feeding the power to the four half-summoned gods around me.
I let them fight the First Alpha for me. Thale does it marvelously. Using his connection to the earth, he makes the plants at our feet push between the ancient stones and grow at an unnatural rate.
They snake across the Mating Circle, wrap around the First Alpha's legs, and climb his haunches. First a few, then a dozen, until he's unable to take a step forward at all.
I smile triumphantly, even though it should wound my heart to see the mythical creator of our packs brought to his knees. Thale watches me smile and grins as well.
Then the First Alpha pulls his white-dipped paw out of the vines. Pushing against the stones beneath him, he effortlessly breaks every single vine with his legs. They slither off him and fall to the ground in pieces.
My heart skips a beat. I'm starting to realize that even the gods may not be a match for him.
Which is why it's so frightening that he's still coming for me. Slowly, now—as if he has all the time in the world.
Between one step and the other, he shifts into human form. It happens in the blink of an eye, a sign that he's a powerful werewolf.
Now that he's standing in front of me as a man, I wonder how I ever saw the visions in my dreams as visions of him as my mate. Unlike the four gods I dreamed of, who were a blur of hands and eyes in my fantasies, the real First Alpha is unmistakable.
He has deep, earthy brown skin, long braided black hair, and ice blue eyes that reflect the light around us.
And he's close enough now that I can see the three slashing scars that start at his neck and reach towards his chest, dipping beneath the casual black shirt he's wearing that came with him as he shifted.
Those scars, I realize with a start, nearly match mine. They must have the same source: his brother.
"He attacked you too?" I murmur, unable to stop myself. "I think he wanted to kill me. Your brother, I mean. He has to be stopped."
Our eyes meet, and I hope for a single second that he might not be my enemy.
Maybe we can find common ground. Especially since we both have reborn souls inside us. That would make us the same age—though the First Alpha, whatever his name is, looks more mature and stately than me.
I stare at him as he takes a short breath, wondering what he's about to say.
"You did this to yourself with your insolence."
I'm stunned by the disdain in his tone.
Then he goes after me.
Grabbing my hands in a tight, strong grip, he yanks them out of the air. Something inside him, some surge of power or force of will, wraps around me.
With a single harsh motion, he severs my connection to the wellspring and stops the summoning spell.
All around me, the gods flicker out as if they were never there at all.
Chapter 28
Rina
Iwas raised to be his mate. I should want to give in to him.
Instead I look into the First Alpha's eyes and all I want to do is kill him for stopping my summoning.
The gods are who I want here. I've known them for such a short time, but I can't deny how drawn I am to them. They've been in my dreams for years, and that can't be a mistake.
In comparison, the First Alpha is nothing and no one to me. He abandoned me when I needed him most, letting his brother attack me. As his appearance now makes obvious, he could've showed up at any time.
That isn't all of it. He's holding my wrists so damned tight.
Really he's asking for it.
So I go after him. Shifting into wolf form, I pull my arms from his grip as they turn into paws.
He looks shocked that I managed to shift despite his tight grip on me. He shouldn't be. My wolf form may be small and weak, but I've always been able to tap into her easily.
As a wolf, I'm small and mostly grey, with delicate paws, rust red fur on my belly and back, and a dipped white muzzle. I've seen myself in reflective surfaces as well as photos my mom took to mark the first day I shifted.
Out in the wild, I would pass for any old wolf. Unlike most werewolves, who are so large and strong that there's no mistaking them, especially when they have unique markings like the First Alpha's crescent.
I make up for my small, unassuming size and plain markings with speed, agility, and cunning.
Three things I've only ever used on the practice fields or while hunting.
Now or never, I guess.
Slipping behind the alpha while he's still shocked, I leap on him. My small paws dig into his back, and I clamp down on his ear with my jaw, ripping into it.
Howling, he throws me off him. I was expecting as much, so I twist in midair and land on all fours, skidding across the stones, my claws leaving scratch marks behind.
"You'll regret doing that," the alpha says, turning to me with anger in his ice blue eyes. "This would all be easier if you'd just give in. You're supposed to give in."
I have no idea what he means by that, and I don't care. He's a jerk—that's more than enough for me. I snarl at him and make it clear that I'm not going to back down.
So he shifts into his much bigger and stronger wolf form. My heart aches at the sight of it—I used to dream of getting that wolf form. The jet black fur, the crescent mark on his forehead, the long curve of his shaggy tail. It was meant to be mine.
But I'll make do with what I've got. Rushing him, I prepare for a battle.
It's short lived. Though I try to slide under his belly and attack him, the First Alpha is fast as well as strong. He flips me over, gets his jaw around my neck, and shakes me.
It hurts, but I don't let it stop me. Digging my paws into his neck, I push him off me and twist around. I aim my next attack for his side—maybe I can injure him enough to slow him down so I can do the spell again.
He moves faster than I expected, and all I get is a mouthful of fur. A growl emanates from his deep chest. My pulse races as I realize I'm starting to make him mad.
This was all playing pretend for him. If he decides he wants to tear me to pieces, I'll be done for. Forget being promised to him—that obviously was never going to happen, even if I hadn't just severed our so-called thread.
He has absolutely no interest in me at all. Probably never did. Which means years of my life have been leading up to a lie.
Realizing that, I feel a pang of regret. The First Alpha leaps on me in this moment of weakness and wrestles me to the ground.
With his front paws pinning down my chest and his back digging into my tail, I can't do much besides twitch and groan.
Staring into my eyes, he pushes his alpha abilities into me. And yet again, I hear his voice, loud and invasive.
Stop fighting. He shoves an image of me in my human form into my mind. Now.
Without even wanting to, I shift back.
It sucks. I hate being forced to shift. Alpha Morgan did it to us new werewolves once or twice when we were figuring things out, but it never felt so shameful or forceful as this.
It's violating, even with all my clothes coming along with me. My stomach churns as he shifts back as well, his hands now holding me down by the shoulders.
"That's better," he declares, sounding proud of himself. "No more trying, Fern. Just give in already."
I frown up at him. "That's not my name."
"Whatever your name is this go round, it doesn't matter to me. All that matters is stopping you from doing something stupid. And whatever that was that you were doing, it was stupid."
Whatever that was? So he has no idea I was summoning the four gods. Interesting—I file that fact into the back of my mind, and hope that it matters later. Because right now, I have absolutely no advantages over him whatsoever, and all the disadvantages in the world.
He yanks me to my feet, grabs both my wrists in one hand, and quite easily pulls me away from the center of the Mating Circle. I struggle against him, digging my heels in and trying to wriggle free, but he barely seems to notice my attempts.
His strength is something else—not just physical, but metaphysical as well. It feels like he got stronger when he stopped me from using the spell. That could mean that he's drawing power from our wellspring, something that should be impossible for someone who's not a member of our pack's coven. But if I can do it because the reborn wolf spirit inside me was once in that wellspring, maybe he can do it for exactly the same reason.
He called me by another name. I wonder if that means he has his memories from a past life. Maybe if I had my memories from the last omega's life, I'd know what to do in a situation like this.
The alpha has dragged me towards the steps. Panicking at the thought of being tossed down them—there are a few hundred, all stone and steep—I start babbling.
"We could do whatever you're about to do together, you know."
I hook one of my feet into the metal railings on either side of the steps to keep him from dragging me any further.
"Whatever it is you want the wellspring's power for, maybe we can share. You do your spell, I do my spell, everyone goes home happy."
He kicks my foot off the railing and drags me down the first step before answering.
"That won't work," he says, sighing as I hook my other foot into the other railing. "If you do that spell of yours, summoning only the gods know what, I won't be able to do my spell. There can only be one, and I'm not going to be stopped. Not after everything I've been through to get here."
I'm about to ask him what he's been through to get here when the wind shifts and a smell comes to my nose.
The smell of a werewolf male.
Chapter 29
Rina
Crushed red berries. Lemon and mint. With a hint of the earth just beneath it all, as if it's all coming from a home garden.
Bastian. The First Alpha doesn't react, so either his nose isn't as good as mine, or he doesn't recognize the scent for what it is.
I get just a waft of the smell before I'm being swept away. Bastian is in his giant tan and dark brown wolf form, with glowing red eyes. He leaps on the First Alpha, tossing him half over the railing, then grabs my pants cuff in his teeth. I don't need to be urged much more than that—as soon as I'm free I throw myself back towards the Summoning Circle.
The First Alpha and Bastian are going at it, both in wolf form now. Bastian's large wolf is better able to fight the alpha, but he's not as powerful without the wellspring on his side. No doubt the fact that his mate and pack is so far away affects him as well.
He may not be able to hold off the First Alpha for long.
And I'm not letting him stop me again without a fight.
If it's his spell or mine, then obviously my spell wins out. I just have to cast it while he's busy with Bastian.
"C'mon, c'mon."
Running to the center of the stones, I slide to a stop, throw myself down on the ground, and slap my palms against them.
"Please. Let's try this one more time."
The power surges into me, slow as molasses. I grit my teeth, jaw clenched. I can feel him tug it back towards himself—he's got a better connection with it.
Even distracted in battle and dozens of yards away, he knows what he's doing better than I do.
So I try harder. But as I'm finally making headway, grabbing onto a trickle of power, I hear a sound very close by that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
Warrior wolves howling.
The First Alpha's pack has come to help him in battle. Surging up the steps to the Mating Circle, they converge on Bastian.
And while the large, powerful wolf is able to hold his own, even against five warriors, he has no time for the alpha as well.
Which means he's able to come after me again. Taking the opportunity, the First Alpha twists away from Bastian and heads right for me. He sprints so fast that his dark fur is a blur, the crescent moon on his forehead a splash of white.
"Please, faster!" I push my will down onto the wellspring as the alpha approaches. "Just a few more seconds—"
He collides with me and takes me to the ground before I can even stand up.
Tears of frustration prick my eyes as he shifts to his human form and holds my wrists tight against my body again.
"Get off me!" I struggle beneath him, bucking and twisting. "I'm not going to let you hurt anyone, you asshole."
"Apparently I've made the wrong impression."
Holding me down with one hand, he puts the other against his chest, just over his heart.
"Let me introduce myself. My name is Rhett Thorn, Alpha of the Great Lakes Pack. Up until recently I thought that's all I was—but I get the feeling that you understand what that's like."
I don't answer, staring up at him with a hard expression. He won't see me acknowledge anything he says, no matter how convincing he tries to be.
"Very well, don't tell me a thing," he says. "But listen to me when I say this: I'm not here to hurt you."
"Could've fooled me."
On cue, he relaxed his grip on my wrists—but not enough for me to wriggle out.
Over his shoulder, Bastian gets pinned by two of his warriors, and my heart leaps into my throat. But he throws them off with a roar of power, regaining the upper hand—for the moment.
All while this sociopath holds me down.
"I'm sorry about the first impression I've made. I was... hasty in my attempts to get what I need."
"Tell me about it."
"But I don't want to hurt any of you," he continues. "Gods know that would just ruin my goals. I'm here to take over your pack, after all, and they'll be happiest with an alpha who hasn't maimed or killed them."
I suck in a breath, eyes wide. "You can't do that."
"I most certainly can," he says confidently. "And I'm going to, no matter what. Because all I want is to bring my brother back to life and have a second chance with him."
