Page 89 of A Reign of Malice
My heart leaps at the sound, but it sinks just as quickly.
Because I know what Aeson is thinking. I see it in the way his grin returns.
They’re too far to get to me in time.
“Don’t let those sounds fool you.” His smile widens. “I’m not done with you yet.”
He raises the dagger again, eyes glowing with something inhuman. Something sinister and made from darkness.
He has nothing left to fear.
I brace myself, knowing I have to do something. Quickly. Not only to keep the fight going but to survive.
Because my pack is coming, and they need me just as much as I need them.
I just have to live long enough for them to find me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
JULIAN
Watching Sloane walk away from me, down that shadowed path that led to the unknown, was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. She didn’t look back, and I understood. Because if she had, I might’ve broken. I might’ve chased her down and refused to let her go.
But that’s not what she needed.
She needed me to believe in her. To trust that she could finish what she started. So I did.
Until the attack.
It came like lightning. A scream, a spray of blood and chaos.
Five of our wolves fell before we even had time to react. They never saw it coming. And that’s when I knew—someone among us had warned Aeson. We had a traitor. Our carefully constructed plan shattered in an instant.
There was no time left to stall.
We had to move.
Asher, Theo, and I regroup first. We pull back from the others, give orders, pivot where necessary, and within minutes, we launch into formation. This isn’t just a battle anymore. It might be a rescue, and I won’t leave Sloane waiting.
My mate is inside that castle, and I can feel her pain.
Not in vague terms, not metaphorically. Ifeelit. A sharp crack in my chest like something had seared right through to my heart. My mate is hurt. And every second we wait, the pain only deepens.
So I run.
I lead the charge with a roar that rattles through the trees. Claws pound earth. Teeth bared. Every wolf at my side follows without hesitation, our intentions set on tearing the castle gates off their hinges, on burning down the walls and everything within.
Most importantly, I won’t stop until Sloane is safe in my arms again.
As one pack, we run through the terrain with unstoppable efficiency. I expect another attack before we get to the castle, but it seems Aeson is keeping the rest of his warriors close, meaning this fight won’t be spread out. It will be like a bomb detonating once we get there.
Moving through the last section of forest, I sense the dark energy soaking these woods, growing heavier the further we go. My wolf bristles, but the darkness doesn’t slow us down. We have a mission to execute and nothing will stop us. Not even the horde of wolves awaiting us when we break through the woods.
Most of Aeson’s pack has shifted, their massive forms weaving in and out of the battle like shadows with teeth. But a dozen remain at the rear, still in human form, lined up in formation, bows raised and glinting with deadly metal at the tips.
As we surge forward, the hiss of arrows slices through thesky. Most miss, embedding into stone and earth, but the ones that strike—gods, they strike hard.
A yelp tears through the air a few wolves down from me. One of ours collapses, an arrow lodged in his flank. It shouldn’t be fatal. It shouldn’t drop him like that. But he falls instantly, thrashing wildly, foam already bubbling from his lips.
