Page 128 of Centaur Bolt

I stared at her, bewildered. Her expression reflected surprise. But it was Havoc who spun to face the forest that surrounded us.

And then I felt it, too. Energy coursing over my skin, making every hair stand on end.

“Gate!” The Dragon backed away, into us.

“Who comes?” the Watcher stood with her hands elevated. They glowed green as she spoke through gritted teeth. “She is powerful, whoever she is. And she’s not asking, either.”

My heart froze, but it was Marcus who voiced it. “Isobel,” he growled.

The gate formed between two trees, an erratic explosion of dancing light and power. A curvaceous woman appeared, trailed by three others. Behind them walked a tall, thin man that I had last seen in a dream…

“That’s not Isobel,” Marcus hissed.

“Her second in command,” Havoc snarled. “Along with other coven members and the Torshin bastard.”

Every one of them raised hands wreathed in red—

“Look out!” yelled Marcus, grabbing me by the arm and swinging me toward the cottage.

The red power shot from the newcomers, lancing Havoc’s collar first, and then Marcus’s.

Weakened as he was, it knocked Marcus to his knees. His features writhed as the Wyvern struggled to break free, but then his eyes went inky dark.

I grabbed onto him just as the second wave smashed into the Watcher.

She screamed. I’d never heard a sound like that, it had to be torn straight from her soul. And the coven member kept the power coming, pulsing wave after wave into the Watcher and the collars. It hit me through Marcus, knocking me away from him. He shuddered under the strain, his mouth falling open in a soundless cry.

There was a flash, and the Watcher’s screams cut off. She slumped to the ground.

Wreathed in red that rivaled his scales, Havoc roared. His eyes were wild, deranged, as his bones and muscles writhed their way to Dragon.

From the gate the coven had created, came others. Dragons of every color and description, coming through smaller than normal, and then expanding as they took flight.

Havoc shot me one piercing look, his talons spreading to point at Marcus and then the Watcher.

“Jumps ifs you cans, mini bitch.” He spoke through gritted teeth, before he launched himself upward and hit the closest Dragon with a crash and a thud.

I reached for him, far, far too late. He was already fifty feet in the air. I could barely see the red scales amid the others that attacked him.

“So…” purred a voice. “Who do we have here?” The curvaceous woman had swayed closer, and her eyes, an eerie crimson color, examined me from toes to hairline. She wrinkled her nose. “You smell like a Dragon. But you don’t feel like one—”

She sent another pulse into Marcus, and he cried out, even as his arms lengthened, scales erupting along them. Some were green, others black—they seemed to be at war with each other.

“Ah, my handsome Centaur,” she crowed as she watched. “You have learned much in the time you’ve been gone. Isobel will be pleased. You will lead our new army into the future.”

No.It wasn’t panic that flooded me. It was raw, feral rage. It flushed me with power and filled that place inside me. I held it back as I wrapped my hand around Marcus’s wrist. Then I leaned my leg against the unconscious Watcher before I faced our tormentor.

“My name is Riley,” I smirked. “And I’ll catch you later, bitch.”

White noise…

Snap.

42

Riley

The wind shrieked around me, golden rays, lightning, and thunder.

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