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Kyan
No! She’s mine.
I howl a warning at the rival hound trying to take off Topaz’s head. Our pack explodes into movement.
We are eager for the hunt.
We spring from the ridge like a seamless, well-oiled machine, our numbers easily overwhelming those of the demon wraiths’ hellhounds.
I lock eyes with Topaz. Her posture is rigid; her mouth wide with concentration as she knocks back the hound beside her with a flurry of magic. In this form, I cannot offer her comfort. I cannot offer her anything, but my hellhound body and my fighting spirit.
I hope that will be enough.
I take a mighty leap into the fray below, landing directly on the back of a wraith, knocking it to the ground and tearing at its neck, before the creature disintegrates beneath my jaw and my unsheathed claws.
I raise my head, seeking her out.
There she is, among the smoke and falling ash.
She is magnificent in her black dress, with her hair flowing out around her and with crimson magic spooling from her palms—she looks like a goddess born of blood and fire.
My mate.
Mine!
She stands back-to-back with her cousins. All are facing outward, confronting the demon horde and flinging their magic barbs everywhere.
Hope flares in her expression as she briefly meets my gaze.
Warmth blooms in my chest. I wear the hellhound form, and yet, she hasn’t flinched away in horror or disgust.
Does she recognize her mate, regardless of my physical exterior?
She squares her shoulders and nods in my direction, and then she’s gone, lost again amidst the shadows and fighting bodies.
The certainty that I will do anything to protect this woman—anything—has nothing to do with the Redferne name, or with any pack promise.
I will not lose Topaz, when I have only just found her.
The witches’ circle has already been breached. I race forward, needing to get to her side, needing to protect her from all the horrors of the Otherworld.
Horrors that I know intimately.
Horrors that I grew up with.
Horrors exactly like me.
A demon wraith ahead of me raises a hand, and with a single, withered finger, points straight at Topaz’s chest. Right at the spot where her heart lies.
No!
With a roar, I launch into the air, arcing toward the monster that would kill her. An enemy hound catches one of my back paws in its jaw and yanks me down.
I kick out and roll, writhing to gain traction, and then the creature is on me.
Then another. And then a third.
I snap and bite, swiping viciously with my claws and teeth, bloodlust taking over until all I am is a killing machine.
Finally, there are three black-furred bodies lying in a heap. A gap in the smoky darkness appears ahead of me and I barge through, aiming for my mate.
How is it possible that she’s still standing, shooting out magic all over the place? She is so strong—far stronger than I ever realized.
Her cousins are no longer with her, but I hear the yells and snarls and screeches around me and I know they must be dishing out their own magic punishment just as fiercely as my Topaz.
As I lunge across the sand, she raises a hand and directs a jet of fire directly into a demon wraith’s cold, dead eyes.
The creature swats the fire away and the magic fizzles out, leaving a long scorch mark over the beach.
“Little girl,” it hisses, lips peeling back to reveal blackened, pointed teeth. The voice is a sibilant whisper, and yet its message reverberates loudly through the air. “I was forged in the flames. They burn hotter than you can ever imagine, let alone conjure from your measly store of magic. Your party tricks cannot harm me.”
“Maybe not, but I can slow you down.”
Her voice is barely there, but I am so tuned in to Topaz that I can hear her even several feet away. There is fear in her tone, but also determination. My heart surges with pride at my mate’s courage.
Even in the face of death, Topaz refuses to give up.
I reach her side at the same time as Burley. I share a glance with my Alpha, but there’s no time for anything other than positioning ourselves between her and the demon. Thick, dark smoky fog unfurls around the creature, crawling toward where we stand.
I bare my teeth and growl at the creeping menace.
Before I can launch at it, a spell whooshes past my shoulder and hits the ground right at the demon’s feet. A deep crevice appears in the sand, and a sinkhole forms around its feet, dragging it down into the earth.
“How’s that for a party trick!” Topaz screams toward the space where the demon is sinking.
Unlike the fire, this spell seems to weaken the demon. The fog retreats, and Burley manages to get close enough to snap at one of the wraith’s bony hands.
The creature moves so fast, there is no time to send a warning to Burley. One moment, my Alpha is snapping his jaws and growling, the next, he is impaled on the demon’s clawed arm. It reaches right into Burley’s chest and punches through to the other side of his ribs, coming out halfway along the hellhound’s back, with Burley’s heart clutched triumphantly in its claws.
My own heart stops for a moment as the connection between Burley and every member of our pack is instantly severed. Completely and irrevocably.
A whine escapes my throat, and then I lower my head and charge at the monster. Only I’m too late. Far too late. The fabric of its robe melts into the wind, vanishing completely, as does the demon itself, leaving only the collapsed body of my Alpha on the bloodied sand.
Minus his heart.
Pack voices rise in my mind. Our leader is dead. You are our Alpha now, Kyan.
I do not wish to take that role.
But now, I have no choice.
I raise my muzzle to the sky and howl my grief, my heart breaking as I say farewell to the man who was the closest thing I’ve ever known to a real parent.
***
Topaz
The sound of a grief-stricken hellhound pack is something I never want to experience again.
Their collective howling wail tears at my eardrums, until I hunch into myself, covering my ears to try to ward off the unspeakable sadness and despair.
My eyes well, misery called forth by the hellhound lament, until my cheeks are covered in tears. I think back to the gruff yet welcoming man who led the pack Ky belongs to. I hardly knew him, and yet, his absence will be keenly felt.
I can’t even imagine what it must be like for Ky and his fellow pack members. Does it feel as if part of him has died in this moment? I want to run to the howling monster in front of me and wrap my arms around him. Give him comfort amid his grief.
I’m so sorry, Kyan. For everything.
And yet, I don’t have time to process any further thoughts on the tragedy. The demon wraith I was fighting, and most of the enemy hellhounds, might be gone, but Amethyst and Sapphire are still locked in battles of their own on separate parts of the beach.
Ammie has somehow ended up atop the ridge, facing a gigantic shifter beast with teeth that look like long knives. My pulse stutters when it turns its head briefly, and I catch a glimpse of its blind, empty eye sockets.
Is that one of the hounds I blinded earlier today in the forest?
Its lack of vision ability doesn’t slow it down: if anything, it fights more fiercely than it did at the resort, lashing at Ammie and one of Ky’s pack hellhounds with its claws, and snapping its jaw with an enormous cracking sound every time one of them gets too near.
Down here on the beach, Sapphire faces a demon wraith. Her long hair whips around her in the unnatural wind, and for the first time I see how much she’s grown up. The small girl I once knew—and the gawky teenager who followed—are both gone. Unaccountably, she bursts into wild laughter, her eyes bright. Silver magic radiates from her body.
She is beauty and power intermingled.
And she is having fun.
From behind me comes a deep, rattling breath, like dry leaves rustling in a graveyard.
Shit. Stop worrying about everyone else.
I still have my own battle to deal with.
And Luthor hasn’t yet appeared.
Kyan growls beside me as I turn and face a demon wraith in the process of dragging itself up from a rift in the earth. I dare to lay a hand on Ky’s shoulder, hoping that is okay with him in this form. He leans into me, as if lending me his strength.
Relief rushes through me and I take a second to simply enjoy the heat from his furred body.
Thank the goddess. He doesn’t hate me, even after I sent him away.
I picture what we must look like in this moment. A hellhound and a witch, working together.
Falling for one another.
The absurdity would make me laugh, were the situation not so desperate.
Even in his grief for his Alpha, Ky’s focus remains on helping me. I clench my fingers in his soft fur, hoping he knows how much I appreciate his support, and then remove my hand and allow my power to surge inside me. This time, I enchant the rustling grasses around us. Under my magic, the blades lengthen and spread out, forming thick ropes that snake around the wraith’s arms and torso.
The monster is stuck, half in and half out of the ground. It twists and thrashes as its robes begin to singe and smolder, burning away as the magic ropes them.
An ear-splitting whine from the ridge above confirms that Ammie has just sent the last hellhound packing.
I don’t turn. I can’t take my attention off what I’m doing. Ammie jumps down into the sand beside me and adds the strength of her magic to my own.
My muscles tremble with the sustained effort of holding off the creature.
The grasses grow faster, binding the demon into place through sheer force of our combined wills.
“Remind me to get some pointers from you when all this is over,” Amethyst huffs, panting with the effort. “You’ve been practising your nature magic.”
“What can I say? It keeps things fun at parties.” I grin, though I expect it looks more like a grimace. Together, we bury the demon under a mountain of grass and sand, pushing it down, down, deeper and deeper, until I can no longer feel its energy imprint at all.
“We need to help Sapphire!” I squint, trying to make her out in the storm of magic, smoke, and dust around that area of the beach. “Where is—”
A scream comes out of the whirling storm, and a burst of adrenalin surges in my system. I gape as Sapphire flies through the air and hits the rocks beneath the ridge. I make out her slumped form, her ashen-white face. Blood.
I charge forward, my mind blank with fury. I can’t hear anything but the ringing in my ears.
The demon turns its head. Its mouth twists as its eyes lock onto mine, and it sends out a rolling cloud of something dark and creeping with a single flick of its clawed hand. The dark ribbon starts from under its cloak and races toward me over the sand. In its wake, the grassy plant-life withers, blackening and dying before my eyes.
At the last second, I throw up a shield, my arms trembling with exhaustion.
I already know that it won’t be enough. I’m almost completely drained of magic.
The only emotion I have left to channel is despair.
We lost. And Luthor didn’t even turn up.
My spell is too weak; it flickers like a guttering candle. The black mist eats through the remnants of my magic like it is made of tissue paper.
I have nothing left. The realization is almost peaceful.
I can stop fighting now.
Once they take my soul, maybe my cousins—and the rest of Kyan’s pack—will finally be safe.
I bow my head and wait for the darkness to engulf me.
It never arrives. Instead, just as my shield fails, Kyan leaps in front of me, taking the full brunt of the magical attack. Another hellhound grabs the wraith in its giant maw and rips the monster’s head right off its shoulders.
But it’s too late. I barely have time to scream out, “Kyan!” before he collapses in the sand at my feet.
