How many wolves will we mourn when this is over?
I’m tired of death. I’m tired of fighting. I just want to be with my mates.
This has to end today.
Once the wolves have made their presence known, it doesn’t take much more than a minute for the witches to catch on. Forms burst from the stronghold and spill out onto the plain, magic already billowing around them.
The two sides crash together like opposing waves until there’s nothing but chaos below.
I swallow hard and turn my back on the scene, hoping and praying that the shifters will be able to hold their own against the witches. Every day for the last three days, I’ve done a protection sigil over the entirety of our army to help them defend better against witch magic. I just hope it was enough.
As much as I want to watch and make sure they’re safe, I can’t focus on what’s happening below. Not if I want to play my part in this attack. Any minute now, Cleo’s going to come searching for me, and when she does, we’ll have our own battle to fight.
My mates walk forward to stand with me, the five of us standing in a tight circle. A soft breeze blows around us and rustles the underbrush. If not for the sounds of battle below, this place would be peaceful.
“Ready?” Dare asks quietly.
I nod, unable to form words around the lump in my throat. Then I brace myself and let down all of the barriers I’ve worked so hard to put up between me and Cleo. I open my mind fully to give her access.
She’s waiting for me.
I’m violently yanked from my body, and I give myself over to Cleo’s control without a fight. I hurtle through the bond into the astral realm, feeling as if I’m drowning in the coven leader’s fury.
My landing is rough. Instead of getting my feet under me at all, I hit the ground on my side in a blinding burst of agony.
My astral form rolls twice before I come to an abrupt and painful halt against a large chunk of rock that rises from the cave floor. Stars burst in my vision in a mimic of what would happen to my real body in the same situation. My gaze focuses on the ceiling of the cave, which seems farther away than I remember it being. In fact, the entire cave seems massive this time, much bigger than it’s been at any other meeting we’ve had.
She changed it, I realize. Just like I made adjustments to the mating cabin that my mates and I used as our landing place, she’s made adjustments to this incorporeal space, modifying it to suit her whims.
I manage to sit up, using the slimy stalagmite to steady myself. But before I can get to my feet, Cleo attacks.
Magic slams into me and sizzles along all of my nerve endings. I grunt from the impact and fall back onto the ground, my arms and legs seizing. The fact that it’s not my real body doesn’t matter one bit. It hurts just as much as it would in the real world.
“You bitch!” Cleo shrieks, appearing in my line of sight with black, smoky magic flooding from her fingertips. Her eyes are crazed, and her red lips are twisted into an inhuman snarl. “You think you can come onto my land? That you can defeat me?”
As she raises her hands to shoot another blast at me, I throw my own hands up between us and quickly etch out a protection sigil. It’s basic, so simple child witches can probably do it, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. No matter what I do, I’m still an untrained witch up against a woman who’s been honing her powers since birth.
The sigil flares to life and deflects Cleo’s blast so that the magic hits the wall of the cave. Dust and debris break off and rain down from above, and I roll quickly out of the way, scrambling to get my feet beneath me even as she attacks again.
I duck behind the stalagmite and crouch low. Her magic slams into the top of the formation, ripping the peak off in an explosion of shattered rock.
Cleo speaks again, her voice low and dangerous. “You should never have come here, you fool. We will kill you all.”
I close my eyes and reach for Archer. Cleo hasn’t given me a chance to bring any of my men over yet, and as