Wild Wolf (Darkmore Penitentiary Book 4)

I was battered, exhausted but still full of all the wrath of battle. This beast wouldn’t get the best of me. I was a Shadowbrook and Gustard was nothing but a ghost in the shell of a monster.

He swung at me with bloody claws and I ducked back, missing the attack by mere inches, but despite losing a hand, he had still landed plenty of blows. I was torn between healing myself just enough to continue the fight and not burning myself out of magic before the moon could restore it. I ran as often as I could, letting the light of the moon seep into my skin and recharge me, but there wasn’t time to run enough. Gustard kept coming, throwing his weight at me and trying to get me off my feet. I never stopped moving, side stepping and blasting him with shards of ice.

His skin was torn from my attacks but still, he didn’t slow. His body was a machine built for war, and I was the sole soldier in his sights.

He swung for me again and I cast a shield of ice against my arm a beat before his claws impacted. The shield shattered, taking the worst of the hit, but Gustard’s hand closed around my arm and he swung me at the wall of the tower.

I slammed into it, my head cracking against the stone and blood wetting my mouth as I slumped into the snow at its base.

Fuck.

Get up.

Come on, get up.

My limbs were leaden, the world spinning too fast for me to see straight. The hulking shape of Gustard closed in on me and my hands wouldn’t react as I willed them to move. For magic to rush into my fingertips and blast an attack at this monster who had dared laid hands on my mate. He’d had his vile gang beat her in Darkmore, had left her bloody and bruised, and would have done far worse to her had he gotten the chance.

The thought of it alone set my blood boiling, my heart rioting with the need to protect her from Gustard once and for all. To seek vengeance on him for all he’d done to her, all he’d ever thought to do to her.

The crushing blow of his claws slammed against my head and I was knocked sideways, tossed like a ragdoll onto the ground while my vision swum even more. The hot, wet drip of blood slid down my neck and I knew what this came down to. A second, nothing more. That was how long I had left to act or death would come for me as swiftly as the wings of a nightingale and steal me away into the nevermore.

I didn’t belong there. Not yet. Not while my Rosa still breathed. I would remain at her side, I would be her protector, her mate, her warrior.

A spear of ice formed in my grip and I rolled as Gustard leaned over me, preparing to finish me. One more swipe of those claws was all it would take.

A howl of pure love left me as I thrust the spear at his chest and stuck him under the ribs, my blade driving in deeper and deeper.

A screech tore from Gustard’s throat as I pushed that spear in as hard as I could, using the full force of the strength I possessed. It sliced through him like a hot knife through butter, punching out of the other side of his body and ending him with a finality that made me release a heavy breath.

Gustard’s screeches were silenced and I shoved him backwards with a grunt of effort, rising to my full height as I did so and gazing down at the dead monster at my feet.

I pressed a hand to my chest through a tear in my shirt, sending healing magic into my veins while I caught my breath. The numbing air was stealing away the bite of pain in my injuries, but it was a relief all the same as they finally knitted over.

My gaze shifted to the open doorway and I stalked inside, ready to help track down Sin, Max and the Lion Order that had been stolen from my brother.

I gazed at the stairs and started up them, the wail of dying Fae carrying like birdsong all throughout the tower. And I knew that my pack mate had to be close.