Page 100 of Malcolm

Bringing up a sharp blade, she blocked a downward strike from one of the dolls. Putting her free hand out, she grabbed the long blade that magically appeared there and slashed wide, cutting the creature across the belly. Straightening, she looked around the room.

“Coral,” she called, and the floor beneath her feet erupted upwards, and roots burst out tearing apart the wooden flooring. “What’s going on?”

“The ground is covered with dolls; the guardsmen are fighting them, and I’m directing the women and children to evacuate.” Coral's voice came through strongly from the flowers that bloomed along the roots. “The transport spell was too fast; I couldn’t give you an early enough heads up.”

“Shit!” Oyes shouted as three dolls ran towards her; she rolled her wrist, holding the sword. She transformed it into a scythe. “Sabina, stay close to me.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Sabina pressed her back to her cousin.

“Lydia,” Oye called; the other witch stepped forward calmly. Her eyes turned a bright blue as lightning ran along her arm. “Burn them.”’

Lydia grinned as she brought her arm forward. “Gladly.” Lightening raced from her arms, towards the dolls that ran towards them. The smell of burning flesh filled the mess hall; just as a growl went up as the werewolves changed, and their jaws opened, revealing their razor-sharp teeth.

Tiller sighed as he watched the chaos erupt, his tails lashing out as he took the heads of the enemy. He felt his ears twitchand sidestepped an attempt to stab him in the back. With a few quick steps, he turned with his foot raised and slammed it into the doll's stomach. “Well, this will be hard to explain to the council later.” He dropped his foot just as the doll flew, breaking through what appeared to be one of the last walls. “I should charge them for renovation.”

“Malcolm!” A loud roar cut through the noise of people fighting.

Malcolm grabbed one of the dolls by the head and, swinging it, tossed it at three that were running after him. Fiery bloodlust was running through him. He’d seen the wizard clash with Castian, and he’d been slowly making his way towards him, avoiding others fighting.

Another crashing sound put a hole in the wall. He could now see the fighting going on outside. He hoped those who couldn’t fight had already run to hide. Just as he was almost at Castian’s side, someone shouted his name.

Malcolm stopped in his tracks and half-turned.

Standing in the doorway, his red hair bright under the light of Main Hall, stood Beliel. His clothing was traditional, and his leather bands crisscrossed his arms along with scars. Bloodlust spilled off him in waves. Baring his teeth, he grinned, his bright yellow eyes filled with killing intent. “I’m here to finish what you started.”

Malcolm inhaled deeply. Turning around, he made his way towards Beliel. “You know, I’ve been wondering something.”

“And what’s that?”

“Why are you so intent on dying,” he said, pausing a few feet away. His eyes turned a bright yellow, as his claws peeked out. “I want to know why I’m tearing your throat out, at least.”

“Ha,” Beliel released a barking laugh. “You don’t know?” He shook his head. He lifted his thumb and pointed at himself. “Did you forget already? You’re the reason I was banished.” Hepointed at Malcolm with the same hand. “You killed my brother, Damon. The previous Alpha.”

Malcolm tensed, thinking back to Damon and the minute he’d defeated him. He looked down; for a second, he felt guilty. But it was only for a second.

“So?” he said, as he smirked, facing him. “He deserved to die.”

Beliel seemed surprised by his casual reply: “I tore him apart piece by piece, and I will do the same thing to you.”

Malcolm felt his bones begin to shift and move as he allowed the beast in him to grow. The raging violence that he’d been holding a tight leash on took over his mind, and the man, Malcolm, changed into a blood-drunk monster and leaped at his enemy.

His wolf form dwarfed the other, and he clashed with a changed Beliel. Their growls filled the air, and they rolled outside, clawing at each other. Their blood covered the ground. Malcolm didn’t think of anything other than taking down his enemy.

He’d spent enough years feeling guilty and wallowing in the past. The minute he’d met Eliza, he’d decided to move forward at all costs. Beliel was the brother of the man he killed; okay, he’d face him head-on.

He dodged another swipe for his face, and turning around he avoided a bite at his throat. With a growl, he turned and changed back into a human and slammed his hand into Beliel’s wolfen chest with all his might. He grabbed the man’s heart and growled as he pulled, tearing the heart from the confines of Beliel’s chest with a sickening sound.

Breathing harshly, he stood still as the wolf form of Beliel’s body slowly tilted from where he’d been posed in mid-attack before it hit the ground.

Malcolm stared down at the heart in his hand, to the body before he threw his head back and released a savage howl. In return, those around him let out answering howls; the enemy's bodies were tossed everywhere, appearing like broken toy soldiers. Breathing hard, he tossed the heart aside as he turned to find Raijin and the others making their way to him.

Castian threw the warlock's head to his feet and grinned. “And here I was hoping he’d give me more of a workout.” He gave the somewhat destroyed area and injured people a glance over. “So, this is what war feels like.”

“Humph. This is nothing compared to the fight with the Unseelie,” Tiller said, wiping blood from his cheek. “At least I think so, from what my grandfather told me anyway.”

“Malcolm,” Sabina called, assisted by Raijin as she walked around the bodies quickly. “You have to go after them.”

Malcolm looked down at her, confused. “What? Go after who.”

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