The second werewolf’s body smoldered where Rowan had killed him, but there was no sign of the alpha wolf. He must have found a way to flee. Miles doubted the shifter would be able to run and hide. Stacy had reached a new level of fury, not to mention the tactical advantage she had because she could fucking fly.
“Has she done that before?” Miles bellowed over the pandemonium surrounding them. In the distance, new howls rose, the final wolves called to Victor’s aid.
“No,” Rowan replied, equally as loud. Fear had paled his complexion.
Miles wondered why. “Well, I think it’s fucking awesome!”
“You won’t think that when we’ve melted into the ground!”
Rowan grabbed his friend’s shoulder. Together, they tore off down the hillside, where they hoped to be safe from Stacy’s fire. It wasn’t long before the pair discovered they were being pursued. The last of the werewolves careened after them, escaping the flames and hoping for a late-night snack.
Miles plunged his magic into the ground, willing pitfalls to open at varying intervals. The wolves who did not fall into them were forced in by vines twisting along the ground. The sounds of their yelps and howls before the earth closed over their heads accompanied the crackling of flames and Rowan’s heaving breath. They reached the bottom of the hill and made for the tree line.
Part of Miles felt like they were abandoning Stacy. He thought of Kiera, too. She’s making her way out. She’s smart enough to escape, he reminded himself.
Miles stole a glance over his shoulder to see the top of the hill ablaze, flames licking toward the stone fortress. It served Victor right for this destruction to take place. Miles only hoped Stacy would find him and end his sorry life.
Being in a dragon’s body was not what Stacy thought it would be.
She had seen her father move with might and grace that belied the true feeling of possessing a body much larger than a human one. Maybe it had to do with the fact that this was her first time. She felt too heavy. She didn’t know what to do with her limbs. Wings? Gods, she had wings!
She had no idea how she did it. She commanded her wings to flap, and they did. The wind seemed to carry her. She didn’t know what to do with her legs or claws. Fury toward Victor welled up, and before she knew it, she was spewing fire.
The land was several hundred feet under her, and much of it was lit with angry red and orange flames. She did not see Victor, but she spotted werewolves stampeding down the hillside, falling into dark openings that yawned before them. Miles’ work.
Two figures fleeing down the hill reached the forest. Miles and Rowan. Stacy made a mental note to not burn the trees they went into. Where was Kiera? Stacy hoped the fae would find her way far from the flames.
Conflict simmered within her. She kept herself in the air with the occasional flap of her wings and banked left and right to stay with the wind. She searched the grounds for Victor. It couldn’t be that hard to spot a giant werewolf, right? Nevertheless, she did not know where he went.
Rich, raw magic ran through her, and she had the sense it was kin to what flowed through the land below. She had hoped to preserve and protect it, not see it destroyed like this. I can still save it, she thought. Triumph and sorrow grappled within her. I’ll get it at a bargain and rebuild. Miles and Rowan can help me heal the land.
Another thought hit her with sudden severity. Oh, gods. This isn’t how Dad got all his land, is it?
If it was, Stacy found herself walking in his tracks in ways she never considered. Was it walking in his tracks or flying in his…wind path? It hurt her mind to consider these things, especially as each wasted moment was more time for Victor to get away.
A new sensation hit her, confusing her at first. When she realized the pelting from the clouds above felt strange only because she had never witnessed rain in dragon form, she eased. The rain fell faster, quenching the flames below. At least the enemy’s numbers had dwindled.
Stacy figured out how to circle the estate, eyes glowing with a fury only a dragon could possess. Anyone below who might have spared a glance up would have seen her eyes as two orbs of gold, fire in and of themselves.
She did not know how to speak to Victor in this form, so she unleashed another roar. She could have sworn the trees nearly uprooted themselves to run as she did.
You can show off all you want, a voice growled in her mind. You will never defeat me.
How the hell are you doing that? Stacy demanded.
A cold laugh. We’re both shifters. We can speak mind-to-mind.
I will give you one chance to turn yourself over.
A pause. Never.
Her third roar was the loudest of all. WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?
There. Below, in a grove of trees on the opposite side of the estate from where Miles and Rowan had run. Stacy wasted no more time. Her fire blazed into the trees, melting leaves and branches in seconds. The wood charred and smoldered.
There he was. Victor in his great beast form rose on hind legs and unleashed a roar of his own. His armor was black with her fire but had not yet fallen off. Otherwise, he seemed unharmed. He must have used magic to shield himself, though Stacy was certain he could not keep up the defense.
She landed, the force of it shaking the ground. She staggered, not used to leaving the sky in this form. I’ll have to work on my landing, she thought, then turned her attention to Victor, speaking mind-to-mind. I’ve burned this place to the ground. Surrender.
You won’t spare me, Victor snarled.
He was right about that.
He turned, bellowing at his remaining forces, a handful of armed men and werewolves. The best of his warriors were gone, though. Stacy intended to finish this, while Victor meant to make a final stand.
Too late, Stacy spoke into his mind. You thought you were dealing with Stacy Drake, but really, you’ve come face-to-face with Anastasia Drakethorn.
All was quiet in the shop aside from the hissing tea kettle in the kitchen, the cat’s occasional purring, and the gentle pattering of rain against the windowpane. The books were in their places, and everything was swept and dusted. A hot meal awaited the bookshop owner in the oven, its aroma wafting into every part of his small home. All things considered, tonight would have been perfect.
Despite the quiet, Ethan sensed someone other than himself was in his shop. The door hadn’t opened. He would have heard it. Of course, anyone who came in here had to possess magic because humans without magic couldn’t see the place.
This person, whoever the hell they were, had managed to enter with magic while not using the door. Ethan didn’t like that. People with mysterious ways unnerved him. If they wanted to come into his damn shop after hours, they could simply ask.
Holding a cup of tea, Ethan strode into the main part of the shop and stopped short.
