Page 87 of Rising Reign

He tore the water rope off his neck, then charged forward and lashed out with a strike to my jaw. My hold on my caster magic wavered, and the water slammed back into the stream. But I didn’t forget my lessons. This time, it was the training from Ender and King that I called on.

I used the force of the mage’s blow to propel me into a roundhouse kick. My foot connected with the dark mage’s jaw, making his head snap back. I lunged forward with my sword, ramming the blade straight into his chest.

But it hit just to the right of his heart.

The mage snapped and snarled, going almost feral as he ripped the sword from his chest. “What do you have now, Little Empath? Nothing.”

He prowled toward me, and I reached for King’s blade at my waist but came up empty. A curse slipped from my mouth. It must’ve slipped from my belt when the mage struck me. Now, I had nothing. The gun at the back of my belt would do nothing against this dark creature.

Rhys’s voice filled my mind. “Trust your wolf.”

The mage gripped my shoulders, his terrifying nails piercing my skin. “All that is yours will be mine.”

I let my wolf free. But she didn’t transform completely as I expected her to. Instead, I heard just one message in the space between her and I. We banish him together.

My hand shot out, my fingers lengthening to claws. I punched into the mage’s chest. All my physical training coming together. My claws tightened around his heart, and I ripped it clean from his chest.

The mage stumbled back, his white eyes widening with shock. And then he fell.

It was as if all the other mages felt it, too. They howled in pain, clutching at their chests and beginning to fall. One by one, they tumbled to the ground, disappearing into nothing but a pile of robes.

My pack looked on in shock, so confused by the turn of events.

King jogged to my side in wolf form, his shoulder still oozing from his injury. “He must’ve been their coven leader. End him, end them all.”

Relief swept through me. “It’s over.” I glanced down at him. “We need to get you healed.”

A shout rang through my head as I moved to turn. Puck’s voice rose. “Wren! Watch out!”

But it was too late. Some force hit me like a freight train, and then I was falling.

51

PUCK

I watched in horror as the reddish wolf with dead eyes took Wren to the ground, snapping and snarling. But worse, a black substance dripped from its teeth as it tried to get its jaws around her neck.

Kingston ripped into its hindquarter, making it howl as more wolves ran from the opposite side of the property. And I recognized some of them. “Red River,” I snarled through the pack link.

My shift came on instantly as I charged toward Wren, Brix, and King, but I heard Juan behind me. “Holy fuck,” he cursed. “They’re huge. And there are so many.”

He was right. There were more than there should be.

“Mercenaries,” Ender growled through our minds. “I’ve seen some of them before. Hired guns with no loyalty.”

But I knew a healthy dose of Red River assholes was in the mix, too.

Wren just managed to escape the red wolf’s clutches, grabbing for her sword that was now lying on the ground. She swiped at the wolf who looked like he was half demon, and everything in me seized.

Marcelle. It had to be. A shifter brought back from the dead by dark magic. Everything about him was pure evil. He might’ve had a shred of light in him before, but no longer. He was nothing but darkness now.

Rhys and Locke ran into the fray, guns at the ready, as Clara and her team rounded the other side in wolf form. I caught sight of Hera chanting some incantation I prayed would save our asses as Ender and Franco tried to take wolves out from their sniper’s nest.

Marcelle snarled at Wren, that black, tar-like substance still dripping from his teeth. “Going to make you pay.”

Everyone fighting on Arcane’s side stilled. Because we could hear him. It shouldn’t have been possible. The only beings that could hear one another were those joined by pack links or a completed mating bond. But whatever sick and twisted thing had been done to Marcelle had given him more gifts.

Brix leapt into the air, blade raised, coming down on Marcelle’s back and aiming for his heart. But Marcelle turned at the last possible moment, batting Brix away as if he weighed nothing more than a twig. He hit a tree hard and slumped to the ground.