Page 79 of Dawn of the Pack

The hallway is dark like the previous ones, but unlike the previous doors, the window on this one’s not dark. A sickening green glow emanates from inside.

I now understand why Billy is worried; the air crackles with energy. It makes my fur stand on end and my stomach slosh.

Whatever it is, it feels… wrong. Very wrong.

“I have to go back outside before they miss me,” Billy whispers. “I’ll flick the lights on the way back to leave you a path to the door. But as soon as you stop her, get him out of here. Alpha couldn’t get him to shift, so he’s already planning to kill him. If he wins the alpha challenge, he’s going to kill your alpha and see if that will get Leaf to shift. If he loses to your alpha, he’s already got someone primed to carry it out. He’ll be dead before she even finds her way down here.”

I swallow hard; Lily’s up there with no one to protect her if she loses. No one to warn her about what Nielsen’s planning. An anxious whine escapes my throat.

We have to get Derrek and get him out of here, fast, so we can go protect our mate.

Without a second thought, I creep toward the door. I pull up short when I realize it’s a knob, not a handle.

Of course.

I call on the shift, stuffing myself back into my human shape, and peek through the door.

The green light is almost blinding after the darkness of the hallways, but when my eyes adjust, my heart jumps to my throat.

Azalea’s face is black and blue, and she holds a jagged knife while reading aloud from a book. She’s standing over Derrek, who’s tied down to the concrete floor with ropes. A wide black collar covers his throat, and his eyes are round with terror even as he struggles to free himself. Green light that has the look of sinister lightning bolts whips around them in a funnel, ripping at their clothes and making Azalea’s electric purple hair flutter around her battered face.

And painted on the floor is a giant pentagram, dozens of symbols I don’t recognize around the outer circle.

Derrek is smack in the middle.

I crouch down and face the others.

“She’s doing some kind of ritual on him, and he’s tied down in the middle of a pentagram. Jared and I will attack Azalea; Amber, Landon, you focus on getting Derrek free. You heard Billy, so don’t wait for us; get him out of here first. We’re going to bust through that door on the count of three. Ready?”

With a chorus of affirming growls as my only response, I stand back up and grip the doorknob.

“One…”

They’ve lined up, Jared in front and ready to charge through.

“Two…”

My blood races through my body, the sound of it loud in my ears.

“Three!”

I swing the door open and the wolves charge through. Azalea has just closed her book and is kneeling over Derrek with the wicked-looking knife raised when our sudden entrance distracts her. Just as she glances up, Jared hits her full-on and sends her sprawling. The knife clangs on the concrete floor and slides into a corner.

I have no time to shift, so I throw myself at the witch, trying to grab hold of her arms and pin her.

Unfortunately, we forgot one important thing: she can work spells with words alone.

Snarling, Azalea shouts in a language I don’t recognize, and Jared goes flying against the wall, hitting with a sickening crack and sliding down in a heap. He doesn’t move.

The witch just laughs. “You pups should have known better than this. Spiritus prohibere!”

Instantly, my throat seizes and I can’t breathe. My lungs try desperately to inflate, but nothing will pass either way. Panic sets in and I try to keep hold of her arms, but it’s no use; dizziness swamps my head and the panic gets worse. I scrabble at my throat vainly, as if my body expects to find something blocking off my windpipe other than magic.

Azalea stands and glances down at me scornfully. “Pathetic,” she spits, then fluffs her hair and turns to look for her knife.

And that’s when Amber strikes.

She’s shifted back to her human form, and stands directly in front of the other woman, a look of utter contempt on her face. Without hesitation, she slashes the witch’s neck with her own knife, preventing her from uttering one more spell. A thick wave of blood pours from the grisly cut, and Azalea drops to her knees with her fingers at her neck as if trying to stop the flow. Within seconds she tips over, the surprised expression frozen on her face.

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