As we finish the hour hike to the edge of the coven's estate lands, my stomach flips at approaching my home from this side, the side of an enemy, an attacker searching for a vantage point over the very land I trained and bled on, day after day. The familiar chateau looms in the distance; a once conflicting sight of home and treachery, now a symbol of possibility. The nostalgia settles my stomach, affirming my belief that this fight is worth it, no matter what happens and who we lose, we must have this fight.
The lycan army follows Zeta Shea's orders through private pack bonds. Two reinforced lines flank either side of those of us leading: Mavis, Iso, Prince Tol, Peter, Zeta Braun, Zeta Shea, Rainer, Delta Banks, Reeve, and me. The shifted lycans spread out within the forest, slinking almost invisibly into the cold clouds of the morning, and Iso and Prince Tol depart from our group to oversee them.
Peter is tight to my side, and I smell the building scent of vampyres. We transition into movements that come to me as easy as breathing. I'm poised toward the nearest threat while Peter angles himself to view those slowly surrounding us.
Our companions give us space, recognizing what's about to happen. "Reeve, watch any incoming."
"I got you," he says with impressive confidence.
"We have come for the king," I call to the shocked faces of my covenmates as they slowly recognize me. They're caught in a space of uncertainty; fighting their instincts to bow and pay me my due respect as their prince and following the orders of their general and king.
One vampyre makes a decision and charges while another unearths himself from a grave-like mound and springs up at us, catching Peter's arm with his claws before landing on his feet behind us. At that, they seem to drop from everywhere, sprinting in and launching into trees, leaping between branches and falling between us.
Rainer flanks Reeve, knives slashing across a vampyre's chest as he pounces toward them, ready to shred them apart.
Peter and I work efficiently: a rhythm of back-to-back moves luring our enemies in so that we can dispose of them quickly. I slide my blade across Luc's neck and refuse to dwell on the fact that Peter and I will know almost everyone that we kill today.
Claws appear over the edge of the river banks as vampyres rise from the water and pick off those wolves standing closest. Howls pitch through the air as they're dragged away from their pack and wrestled beneath the waves. The moment they're pulled below leaves an emphasized silence as the sounds of their distress vanish.
Reeve and Rainer are within sight, teaming up with at least six other wolves to overpower any vampyre who nears them. He's safe for now, strength in their numbers, so I move swiftly between clashes to find my uncle.
"Honor," Mavis cries, surging toward the raven-haired priestess hanging naked by her arms from a tree. Dried blood and purple bruises splotch the skin of Priestess Red from face to foot. Her body blinks in and out of existence as if made from particles spun together in the wind—not quite solid and earthly.
As Mavis nears, flames erupt from the ground and light a ring around them, roaring to unreachable heights and singeing the overhanging leaves.
"Mavis!" Peter and I search for a way through the heat, all traces of them blocked by the unyielding whips of red, orange, and blue.
The crackling of the fire turns into high-pitched squeals as if it were alive. Surely, Leven Orange must be here somewhere, wielding her magic flames to protect them.
Mavis blasts through with a force of water, throwing a dark wall of smoke and ash into the sky. She drags her defiled sister toward the Grand River, tempting her water magic to help Honor heal.
We aren't far; fifteen yards out from the banks that separate the wolves' land from our coven. Only a tiny insignificant river island, no more than ten yards across provides any sense of neutral ground.
The rush of the water folds over the priestesses like a protective blanket, muting Mavis' grieving wails, and I break my attention from them to assess the bloody chaos behind me. That's when the smoke obscuring the estate grounds clears and we see the king standing with massive, black, leathery wings outstretched and nearly the entire coven surrounding him on the higher ground. Warriors I've known my whole life line our land's border like an impenetrable wall, ready to ravage us.
In a blink, the king dissolves into a thick black mist, obscuring his guards and reaching over the water like a mystic hand crawling toward us. I dip my fingers into the small pouch on my weapons belt and throw a pinch of the specialized mix I'd spent years perfecting, one that eats away at the turbid tendrils of his power, causing them to recoil from within reach of our ankles. His attention diverts to where Reeve battles, tumbling over the earth with a singular purpose.
"Reeve," I scream, praying he can hear me over the yells of terror and wailing moans of those injured.
I sprint for him but my uncle reaches him first, dark rolls of thick vapor inching up his legs. Rainer makes a shallow cut along Reeve's shin and the effect is instant, a dramatic blanch away from the silver in his blood.
Rainer keeps the point of his blade, still smeared with Reeve's blood, aimed at the nebulous form of my uncle.
It doesn't deter the king for long. He bursts into his true form, rocketing into the sky then swooping down, massive wings blocking the sun.
My heart pounds mercilessly in my chest.
We cover our heads and duck for cover as he dives at us before any of us have time to process the swiftness of the attack, half of the wolves are gaping at the king's abilities in frozen horror.
I stab through vampyres emerging from the river to reach him, slashing through guts and throats, and stabbing into chests to stake anyone in my way.
My uncle grabs hold of Mavis, lifting her by the throat almost as high as the tree tops before dropping her toward the river bank of the small river island. She has just enough time to lift a high wave of water to break her fall and cradle her to the ground. The king dives at her again, forcing her beneath the water.
He lands on the small patch of island and walks toward Priestess Honor, wings partly collapsed, a triumphant sneer on his face. His eyes meet mine, making sure I watch as he destroys a holy priestess. A divine vessel. A symbol of everything godly in our world. The desecration hits with a direness, a raw desperation that I haven't felt since living here. My time with the pack has provided perspective on normalcy, on goodness, on loyalty, on family. He is none of those things. Could never be. So, he will destroy them instead, knowing they've aided me these past two years.
Peter blocks an incoming attacker from reaching my back then spins and expertly throws a blade at Frederick. The king easily bats it away with a hearty laugh, knocking it into the water. He somehow seems larger, taller, stronger, reaching everywhere and everyone at once yet remaining untouchable.
The king extends a hand over Honor's slumped form. She's alive, but barely.
Curling his fingers into a fist, he somehow uses her power against her, seemingly grabbing hold of the surrounding oxygen and pulling it away from her. Honor gasps, scrambling with what little power she has toward him, desperately seeking more air. And isn't that the metaphor of his existence; sucking the life out of everything.
From the corner of my eye, Mavis lifts from the river bank, Peter's knife in her hand. She wobbles, half dead, blood choking out of her from her injuries. The king pays her no mind until, riding on a surge of water, she stabs him in the throat, saving her sister from his wrath.
"We need to get on that island," I scream to Peter. I'm running toward the water, dodging the scrape of enemy claws.
I watch Frederick stumble to his knees, disoriented, though his wound is healing, skin stitching back together with unnatural speed.
Now. Now's my one chance to end this before anyone else dies.
Mavis rises with a swell of water behind her, bearing down on him. That's when I make my move. I lock eyes with Peter, and after years of deciphering the other's intent through nothing more than the simplest look, he bites his lip as if wanting to disagree, but, instead, he sticks his knife into an attacker's head and gives me a combative nod.
"Mavis, I need a barrier," I yell as I march into the water. "Keep him from escaping."
Reeve charges forward, blood drenched, and I throw an arm up to stop him.
"You're not facing him alone," he insists, pushing my arm aside.
He speaks as if his word is final. "You're not going in there alone," he repeats and shifts into wolf form, bounding into the water beside me as I dash through the shallows then dive across the deeper current until reaching the island.
Reeve's paw swipes my leg as I pull myself out of the water, and I look back to see him pulled under by a vampyre hidden in the river. I dive back in, finding him thrashing in the grip of his attacker. Blood clouds the water as claws puncture Reeve's neck.
I pull the female off of him and bite into her carotid, tearing the artery wide open. Her grip releases him, and I tug his body to the surface and up onto the island. As quickly as I can, I sift through fur and press my mouth to the wound, sucking and licking at it; healing him.
More wolves paw their way onto the ground and surround us like a physical shield—wolves I recognize as Rainer, Banks, and Braun.
Mavis lifts a high wall of water around us leaving only glimpses of the ensuing battle as the water swirls into the tornadic current with me, my wolves, and my uncle enclosed in the center.
My uncle stands across from us, wings out, his hazel eyes drilling into me, rimmed in cruelty. No one could see him and not know how rotted his core is.
"Welcome home, nephew. You can't imagine my elation when hearing the news that you are alive. I'm not sure I truly believed it until now." He smiles at me and the wolves like we're all so endearing and pathetic. "I should warn you, Warder, there's no power you possess that I haven't perfected a defense against," he says, the wild whirl of water around us causing a strange displacement to his voice; an unnerving disconnect.
I move in front of the wolves and ready my knives, waiting for the right opening to strike. "I wouldn't be so sure, uncle."
"You couldn't leave well enough alone, could you? You could have left and committed yourself and stayed alive long enough to enjoy it, but no. You had to get involved in things that don't concern you."
"Don't concern me? You murdering wolves and their warders and overtaking innocent packs doesn't concern me? You poisoning my sire doesn't concern me?"
He laughs with an unhinged delight. "Tol was as disposable as you are. Weak and pathetic," he sneers.
My chest heaves, bracing for the clash to come as he advances. Reeve and the rest of the wolves growl in warning.
"Good thing he died before he saw his only son become a cowardly turncoat to his coven and the prince of nothing." He launches at me, claws swiping across my chest as I manage a shallow stab into his side. Warm blood coats my chest and my muscles itch to unleash everything I have on him; every encounter of torment and pain I've endured because of him. I lose myself to blind fury, blocking each jab, each kick, each blow. Pounding him with a force of strength I've only tapped into during the rarest of fights, seconds when I thought Peter might be dead or dying.
We thrash and claw and puncture with fangs for what could be minutes or hours, my mind lost to everything but this. Feeling his skin and bones give way under my assault.
I slice into his arm only to be knocked back by a fist to my sternum. I gasp for breath and throw a knife hard enough to bury it into his chest. It hits too high, throwing him off balance but not piercing his heart. Reeve throws himself onto Frederick's legs and bites deeply, tearing through muscle and tendon. Zeta Braun aims for his nearest wing, disabling him enough to buy me critical time.
Banks takes the other wing, tearing it halfway from his back. The king roars in a fury, throwing a force of power from his body that knocks each wolf from him and throws me on my back.
I roll to my feet and charge my uncle while he swipes out at the wolves leaping back on top of him and tugs at the hilt still protruding from his chest. I direct my weight at the knife before he can extract it, driving it deeper, hoping to puncture a lung and injure as much of him as I can.
Mavis' voice penetrates my battle rage. "Daire, I can't hold it much longer."
Reeve is lifted and kicked, tumbling across the island, and I claw my uncle in the gut then knee his face when he bends from the pain, sending him to all fours several feet away. He finds his balance and grins. His face and body are as shredded as mine. He grabs hold of Rainer and tosses him to the other side of the island by Reeve, but Mavis' power keeps him from tumbling over the edge.
Reeve is slack but breathing, pained eyes fixed on me, pushing his strength toward me through his immense power. He releases the enormity of it, letting it weigh down on everyone. Rainer crawls to his side and positions himself in front of his brother, chest and snout raised, daring my uncle to try and get past him.
Stay with me, Lucky, I think before shifting my focus.
"Surrender, nephew, and I promise to give you a quick death."
I swipe my eye clear of a trickle of blood and poise my knives. "Fuck you."
With mangled, half-attached wings, he leaps at me like some flying nightmare, folding me within a cocoon of dark, veiny wings, claws piercing into my sides and fangs into my throat as his arms fold me into a deadly embrace.
I imagine I hear Reeve's frantic, heart-wrenching shout of my name as I drop to my knees. He's too strong, pinning my arms to my sides and overtaking me, draining me.
My uncle rears back with a yell of pain as his wings are fully torn from his body, dropping to let in light, his back gushing with blood and severed tissue. Reeve spits wing fragments from his mouth and snarls, a bloody intent of attack.
"I will end you, pup." Frederick dissolves into mist and curls around Reeve, bracing him and seeping into his mouth, into his throat. His eyes widen in horror, his hands clutching for something on his belt. He bows backward, nearly falling over, opening what looks like an empty pouch.
It falls as the king sinks deeper inside him and I fight to gain enough strength to help him, pushing through more pain than I've ever felt.
A course, abrasive wind cuts across the island, its touch like razors on skin. It grasps hold of the king's mist, two intangibles, yet somehow it yanks back the king's power, erasing it from the air and extracting it from Reeve.
My alpha falls back and grabs at his throat.
The king lands in his standard form, anger lighting his eyes to a kingly gold. He cups Reeve's chin in clawed hands and smirks, his power keeping all of us from reaching him. Reeve's power mixes with my uncle's, and there's no chance for us to breach such strength. I fight against the force of it beside Rainer, biting and clawing at the invisible barrier.
"Reeve," I call, my voice cracking.
Frederick won't go right for the artery, right for the kill. I know this. He'll take Reeve apart piece by piece.
The king ducks his head and says, "Je me révère." Then he bites deep into skin.
Reeve buckles under the pressure of his weight and screams out from the pain, scratching at Frederick's back to fight against the hold. His eyes meet mine as I push harder to reach him, the king's shield making it like trudging through quick sand.
I can hear Braun and Banks fighting at the force from the other side.
That's when I see a shift in Reeve's eyes. They're clear, not fearful. Trust me, they say.
Frederick falters back, gagging and sputtering out coughs of blood, spraying me with it as he chokes. He claws at his throat, eyes wide with dawning terror as he falls to the earth. His body quakes, gurgling up spurts of blood and spit, veins turning visibly purple beneath his pale skin. He sags next to me, hazel eyes glassing over then going blank. I throw myself at Reeve, getting my mouth to his injuries and healing as much of him as quickly as I can.
Mavis lets the curtain of water drop.
It's done now. It's over.