Page 61 of When Two Worlds Collide

We’re too late.

Not all of them,Ember’s thought brushes mine, fierce with determination.We can still save some.

I catch movement below—bears circling the settlement’s eastern quarter, driving terrified shifters toward the center like cattle. My wolves growl, eager for blood, but I hold them with a look. We’re outnumbered five to one. Rage won’t win this.

Then I see him.

Ridge Stormcrow stands in the settlement square, and even from this distance, his presence dominates. Massivedoesn’t begin to describe him—in human form, he towers over the cowering settlers. Scars crosshatch his bare chest like a map of violence. When he throws back his head and roars, the sound carries primal authority that makes even my wolves flinch.

This is what the council fears when they think of wild shifters. This is the nightmare they believe we all are.

Strategy?Ember asks through the bond.

Draw them out. Separate the warriors from those guarding prisoners. Hit and run until?—

Stormcrow’s head snaps toward our position. His nostrils flare.

“Shadow Wolves!” His voice booms across the valley. “Come down, little puppies. Come see what real predators do.”

So much for surprise.

I shift to human form, gesturing for my wolves to hold position. Ember shifts beside me, and I feel the spike of protective fury through our bond. Less than a day mated, and every instinct screams to keep her from danger.

I’m not staying behind,she warns.

I know.I start down the slope.But let me talk first. Maybe?—

“Talk?” Stormcrow laughs as we approach. Up close, he’s even more intimidating. Seven feet of scarred muscle and barely leashed violence. “The mighty Zane Blackthorn wants to talk? I heard you’d gone soft, taking a civilized bitch to your bed.”

Ember’s growl vibrates through the bond. I touch her wrist—steady.

“Let the settlers go, Ridge. Your quarrel is with Haven’s Heart, not farmers.”

“My quarrel is with anyone who builds walls on ourland.” He steps closer, and I smell fresh blood on his hands. “Anyone who forgets what it means to be wild. Like you, apparently.”

His gaze shifts to Ember, and his nostrils flare. “Freshly mated. How sweet. Tell me, does she mewl prettily when you mount her? Does she?—”

Ember moves before I can stop her.

Fire explodes along her form as she shifts mid-leap. Not the controlled flames I’ve seen before, but an inferno that turns night to day. She strikes Stormcrow with claws of living flame, raking across his chest before dancing back.

He roars—pain and fury mixed—and shifts to bear form. Nine hundred pounds of muscle and claw charges after her.

Everything erupts.

Bears pour from buildings. My wolves leap from the ridge. Settlers scatter. And in the center of it all, my mate dances with death himself.

I’ve never seen her like this. The claiming has changed her, unleashed something primal. She moves like liquid fire, always a heartbeat ahead of Stormcrow’s massive paws. Where she touches, she burns. Where she strikes, she scars.

But she can’t face him alone.

I shift and launch myself at his flank, teeth finding purchase in thick hide. He spins, batting me aside like a cub. I hit a wall hard enough to see stars, but I’m already rolling, already attacking again.

Together,I tell her through the bond.Like the hunt.

We fall into the rhythm we learned in the forest. I drive, she strikes. I distract, she burns. But this prey fights back with calculated viciousness.

Around us, chaos reigns. Marcus leads a wedge of wolves against the bear guards, freeing settlers who flee inpanic. Some bears break ranks, torn between following orders and escaping the fire panther who fights like something out of their darkest legends.

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