(Ok so I'm not the best at writing fight scenes so this is going to be a short chapter. Sorry.)
(Siren's POV)
As Hunter and I stood at the edge of our territory with our warriors behind us in a large clearing, I felt a new and and powerful emotion. I realized that it was pride. I was proud to stand beside my mate and lead our pack into battle. I smiled to myself, happy that I felt that way. However, the smile quickly vanished as loud sounds of branches and twigs snapping started echoing through the silence of the woods. I readied myself as my eyes narrowed, staring into the trees in front of me. Before I howled to signal the charge, a large and powerful wave of loyalty washed over me with caused me to look back at the wolves behind me and smile. I turned back and howled as loud as I could, making the wolves behind me howl in response and run past Hunter and I.
Almost as soon as they started running, shadows started pouring out for the trees on the other side of the field, weapons like greatswords and dagger in their hands. They had no battle cry as they ran and clashed with our warriors. Hunter and I quickly ran in after our pack and joined the fight. As we fought, I shared my mind and body with Daemon to use his powers against the dark forces that threatened my new home and pack. I acted as the defense for everyone I saw as an ally while Hunter defended me against the shadows that seemed to be attracted to me like a moth to a flame. I felt a little sorry for Hunter but I know that he wouldn't what it any other way.
As everyone fought around me, I noticed that with every enemy struck down and slain, more seemed to take the place of the dead. I decided to stop playing the defense card and spread my wings to launch myself into the sky, summoning fireballs to my side before throwing them at the shadows. It seemed to be working for a while before a sharp, stabbing pain erupts in my chest causing me to wince and curl up in mid-air. I started shaking as I moved my eyes to where I thought Hunter was but instead, I saw a tall, red skinned (not directed as an insult to Native Americans) man stood over Hunter, who was on his knees and held a hand to his chest. He stood at about 7'2 and was dressed a little too fancy for the battlefield in my opinion. It took me a moment to notice the horns and wings on his and the bloody sword in his hand (picture).
My eyes widened as Daemon forced his full control over my body and mind. He let out a loud, high-pitched screech. The sound was so loud in the space that I had in my mind at I could feel myself vibrate. However, the high pitch was too much for my highly sensitive ears to handle. My spirit started to black out and as I did, the only word I could get out was a name.
"Hunter..."