Alpha Queen (Claimed by Wolves #4) - Callie Rose Page 0,42
one job as Ridge’s mate is to support him, to trust that he knows what’s right, what’s wrong, and what changes everything.
Near the forest just beyond the village line, Ridge slides to a stop just as Lawson bursts from the trees.
I can’t stop the gasp that comes from me at the sight of Ridge’s brother. He’s badly injured—he’s limping on a back paw, and his fur is muddy and missing clumps from parts of his head, neck, and torso. He’s missing almost an entire ear, and one side of his head is soaked in dried blood.
And he’s not alone.
Two people come sprinting out of the woods after him, black smoke pouring from their fingertips. Cold horror washes over me. They’re witches who managed to slip past the sigils at our borders. One man, one woman, both of them with grins on their faces like they think they’ve got the upper hand in the situation because Lawson’s so hurt.
Before any of us can move, the witches attack Lawson with magic. He takes a blow to his hindquarters and falls heavily to the ground, yelping in pain.
Ridge shifts, beginning to sprint to his brother’s side while the magic is still morphing his body from human to wolf. The sounds coming from my mate don’t sound human and they don’t even sound wolf—they’re more like the deep, visceral reaction of a man whose family has been hurt. Trystan, Archer, and Dare do the same, shifting to gallop after him, while I hesitate.
I can fight the witches with magic as long as I stay in human form. My wolf, on the other hand, howls at not being allowed into the fray. But the fact is, I have something in human form my mates don’t, and I have to follow through on that. So I tamp down the angry she-wolf inside me and plant my feet in the dirt, ready for anything.
Lawson isn’t down for the count yet. He rolls to his feet just as my mates reach his side, and he leaps at the witches with a vicious snarl. He latches on to the female witch by the neck and uses his own momentum to drag her to the ground. But her magic intensifies, smoke billowing around her. I can feel the static charge on the air that tells me a spell is imminent.
A blast of energy shoots through the clearing, nearly knocking me off my feet. I throw up a barrier in front of my mates, but Lawson’s too tangled up in the witch for me to protect him too. The spell slams into Lawson, throwing him violently off the witch, though he takes a chunk of her neck with him. He rolls several times, yipping pitifully, and then comes to a stop on the grass and doesn’t move.
I run toward the melee, trying to position myself for a better vantage point to use a spell of my own. My mates dart in and out, snapping at the two witches to drive them away from Lawson’s prone form. I’m terrified one of my men will take a spell they’ll never recover from. Terrified that I won’t be fast enough to protect them.
It’s like Malcolm all over again.
As I’m racing around the fighting group to find a clear shot, several more shifters arrive and join in. There’s chaos for a while—wolves leaping and biting as I throw up barriers and take potshots at the witches with the few defensive spells I know. I’m timid about it—too worried about hitting one of the wolves to really let my witch take over and blast the assholes into the sky.
I manage to get a binding over the male witch, and when the magic stops pouring from him, the wolves seize the moment. He goes down under a pile of shifters, blood spurting, and I turn away because I don’t want to watch them maul him to death. Even knowing that this is my world now, that I’m capable of ripping apart a person with my teeth, I’ve seen enough of this in the past few weeks to last me a lifetime.
The female witch fell while her comrade was being eviscerated. She’s on the ground bleeding to death from the injury Lawson gave her, kicking at the grass and dirt like she can swim away. She screams in terror as the wolves stalk toward her, but the sound cuts off in a strangled cry from the damage wrought to her neck.