Page 71 of Wolf of the Storm
"Come and take her then." Declan's eyes flash with storm light. "If you can."
Connor's smile is all teeth. "I was hoping you'd say that."
He shifts.
The transformation is wrong. His wolf form is massive, yes, but there's something twisted about it. Dark magic clings to his fur like oil, and his eyes glow with unnatural light. He's been using the ritual's power. Siphoning strength from the weakening seals.
Declan shifts in response, and lightning illuminates his magnificent black wolf. Storm power crackles around him, and thunder rolls like a war drum. The Storm Alpha in all his glory.
Connor's loyalists pour from the shadows—not twenty wolves, but thirty. Forty. Hidden reinforcements. More mercenaries, more fanatics, more killers drawn to Connor's cause.
Behind us, Graeme's wolves tense. Elena's pack spreads into defensive formation. The brotherhood moves to protect me, forming a living barrier between Connor's forces and their Alpha's mate.
The stones hum beneath my feet. Power rising, ancient and hungry. The convergence point activating.
I pull out Jax's silver knife in one hand, one of Moira's salt-forged nails in the other. Pride pulses through the mate bond, absolute faith that we'll survive this together.
Connor howls—a signal to his pack.
His wolves charge.
Lightning strikes so close I feel the heat on my skin, the sharp ozone smell burning in my nostrils. The thunder that follows doesn't just sound—it hits like a physical blow, shaking the ground beneath my feet, rattling my bones. My wolf is watchful and hesitant, recognizing something far more powerful than herself.
Declan.
The storm doesn't answer him anymore. He is the storm. Lightning forks across the sky in a dozen places at once,illuminating the battlefield in stark white-blue flashes. The air crackles with electricity. Every hair on my body stands on end. The wind whips around us in a vortex that has Declan at its center, and the rain that begins to fall feels directed, purposeful, alive.
A grey wolf breaks from the pack, teeth bared, coming straight for me.
Good.
I step forward.
CHAPTER 18
DECLAN
The grey wolf lunges for Eliza.
She doesn't flinch. Doesn't hesitate. She steps forward to meet him, and I watch my mate drive a salt-iron nail straight into the wolf's eye socket. The nail punches through bone and brain. He drops mid-leap, dead before he hits the ground.
Pride surges through me, but there's no time. Connor's forces crash into ours like a wave breaking against rocks. The standing stones erupt into chaos.
Sixty shifters on our side. Forty on Connor's. A hundred bodies tearing into each other with fang and claw and raw desperation. The air fills with snarls, screams, the wet sound of flesh rending. Blood spatters ancient stone.
Jax hits the line first, his grey wolf a blur of controlled violence. He fights like he always has: cold, precise, lethal. No wasted movement. Every strike calculated for maximum damage. A brown wolf lunges for his throat. Jax sidesteps, lets the momentum carry his opponent past, then tears into the exposed belly. The wolf goes down screaming. Jax spins, catches a second attacker mid-leap, and they roll together across the stones. When they separate, only Jax gets up.
Three of Connor's wolves down in the first thirty seconds.
Finn roars past me in his full dragon form, scales gleaming crimson in the storm light. He's smaller than legends tell, maybe fifteen feet nose to tail, but what he lacks in size he makes up for in fury. Fire erupts from his jaws, scattering a coordinated pack of five wolves. Our people pour into the gap. Finn wheels overhead, his tail whipping out to catch a wolf mid-leap, sending it tumbling into the stones with bone-breaking force. "Flanking left!" His voice carries over the chaos, dragons able to speak even in shifted form. "Jax, three coming at your six!"
Grayson charges through the center, his massive bear form absorbing hits that would drop a lesser shifter. Two wolves latch onto his back, tearing at the bandages from his western cove injuries. He doesn't slow. Doesn't even seem to notice. His paw swipes out and catches one attacker across the face. The impact sounds like a hammer hitting meat. The wolf flies backward, neck clearly broken. Grayson rears up on his hind legs, eight hundred pounds of raw power, and comes down on the second wolf with crushing force. Connor's remaining wolves break around him like water around a boulder.
Kian moves through the shadows despite his broken leg, his tiger form compensating with upper body strength and vicious efficiency. He's protecting the weaker fighters, the defectors who came to our side but aren't warriors. A rust-colored wolf breaks through, going for the non-combatants. Kian intercepts with blinding speed, claws raking across the wolf's face, blinding him. The wolf stumbles, and Kian's jaws close on the throat. Quick. Merciful, even in the middle of this butchery. Another wolf comes from a different angle. Kian pivots despite his injury, his powerful shoulders doing the work his damaged leg can't. Four parallel slashes across the throat, severing arteries. The wolf drops without a sound.
Rafe moves through the chaos in his black panther form, sleek and lethal despite the gash across his ribs that must be screaming with every movement. He's not the biggest fighter here, but he's one of the deadliest. A wolf breaks from Connor's line, trying to circle behind our formation. Rafe intercepts, silent as a shadow, and takes the wolf down before it can cry out. He fights with precision, targeting weak points, exploiting openings. Always thinking, always calculating, using his panther's natural stealth and power to devastating effect.
I call upon the power of the storm and it responds instantly, thunder rolling with my snarl. Lightning forks across the sky.
