Page 78 of Wolf of the Storm
I'm dying just from proximity to this thing. My wolf snarls continuously now, a sound of pure defiance.
But we don't stop.
Finn roars, attempting to block my path. I walk around his massive dragon form, beneath one wing, past scales that could deflect bullets. He could stop me easily. Could wrap me in his claws and pull me back to safety.
He doesn't. Because he understands what I'm doing. What I have to do.
Grayson steps into my path. "Eliza. Whatever you're planning...”
"Move."
Something in my voice makes him hesitate. He's seen something in my face. Some certainty. Some knowledge.
He steps aside.
I'm close enough now to touch the entity. Close enough that the distortion is absolute. My body is shutting down. Systems failing. Organs struggling. I have maybe thirty seconds before the corruption kills me.
The Fomori's attention focuses entirely on me now. I can feel its hunger, its eagerness. It thinks I'm coming to bargain. To offer myself as an anchor. To give it what it wants.
It doesn't understand what I'm actually offering.
Smart wolf. You've realized. The Alpha can't seal me alone. But you—storm-blood and mate-bond and pack magic all woven together—you could be the perfect anchor. The perfect bridge between worlds.
"You're right," I manage through blood-slicked lips, barely a whisper. "Perfect bridge."
I take the last step forward. Into the distortion. Into the entity itself.
The corruption doesn't just pour over me, it invades. Every cell in my body screams. My wolf howls in agony. The entity tears at me, unmakes me, attempts to reduce me to component parts it can consume and reshape.
My skin splits. Blood wells up along my arms, my legs, my torso. Not cuts, just my body failing, unable to contain itself under the pressure of the Fomori's wrongness.
Pain like I've never imagined. Like every nerve is on fire. Like my bones are glass being ground to powder. Like my blood is turning to acid in my veins.
Declan's horror bleeds across our connection. His denial. His rage. His absolute certainty that I'm about to die and there's nothing he can do to stop it.
But underneath that horror, I feel something else.
His power.
Not gone. Never gone. Just displaced. Disconnected.
The Fomori didn't steal Declan's storm magic; it just severed the link between him and the power that's rightfully his. Broke the channel. Cut the flow.
But I'm his mate. His bond. His anchor in this world.
And if the mate bond can be corrupted and twisted into a bridge for chaos, it can also be purified and strengthened into a bridge for magic.
I stop fighting the corruption.
Instead, I open myself. Completely. No barriers. No shields. No resistance.
The entity crashes in, eager, hungry, thinking I've given up.
But I haven't.
I've become a conduit.
Now!Declan's command explodes through our bond.Let me in!
