Page 11 of Sinful Shifters

None of us knows what will happen to our souls if we die now that we've been summoned. We might cease to exist, be reborn, or be yanked back into the wellspring. Either way, we won't be able to save Rina if we're fleshy bits on the ground.

We have no choice,I tell the others.She's our best chance at saving Caterina. It would be foolish and selfish to stop her now.

Adar snarls, but I know he agrees. He turns back to the battlefield and mows down all the enemies approaching the center of our land—his snarl growing to a fever pitch as his flames hits the shields and stops. I can feel his frustration, and know that if he could, he'd burn the whole forest down to get to Caterina.

But we can't do that. Even if the shields fall right now, we have to find her and save her before we can eliminate the camp. So as much as it behooves me, I have to let someone else act.

Shifting to human form, I pace over to Ali and face her. She's so small, I reflect, but correct myself by remembering that she's also powerful.

"I can do it," she insists again. "I can go in there and save her."

"I believe you."

Cupping my hands, I lace my fingers together and motion for her to do the same. She does, and I draw water into my hands, its touch cool. I pour my magic and strength into the water, blessing it.

Then I pour it into her hands, where it glows against her skin.

"This is some of my strength," I tell her, watching as the magic dissipates, and the water along with it, making her gasp as it settles inside her. "It will travel with you into the battlefield. Draw on it only when necessary, as once it's gone, it's gone."

"Thank you."

The coven witches watch this with wary eyes, but they defer to us. That's one thing that's been surprising since we were summoned, though I suppose it makes sense. While we may not be their alphas, this coven is intertwined closely with the werewolf pack—and we're far more powerful than any witch they've ever seen.

Though I can tell that they disagree with Ali still, I hope that they'll soon see how wrong they are. She may be young and fresh, but they've trained her whole life. All she needed was the right magic to channel, and a reason to channel it.

Saving her best friend's life just might be what turns her into the most powerful witch this coven has ever seen.

Especially with the four of us at her back, lending her strength and guidance.

Shifting behind me, Thale paces forward in his human form. Even with his attention split, he's able to keep channeling attacks towards the invaders, just as I keep my water flowing into spikes that attack and destroy.

"This vine will help you and protect you," he tells Ali, channeling his magic into a weed below her feet. It twines around her leg and curls against her skin, tiny tendrils breaking off to grasp at her clothes. "It gives you a little of my magic and my strength. Be warned, though: nature is a fierce element with a mind of its own. So don't try to force it—just guide it."

Bemused, I refrain from reminding him that the little witch knows very well how to channel magic. She may be even better than us at it, given what she's just instinctively done.

Looking up at my brother in the air, I motion him down. Lucian floats to the ground, his expression cross, frustrated gusts blowing around him.

"I'll give you a breath of my powers," he says, his emotions thrumming through our warrior bond. "Use it to save her and keep her safe, since I can't be there with her. Open your mouth."

Looking confused, Ali parts her lips. Lucian leans forward and breathes a hearty gust of magical air into her mouth. She inhales, magic flowing into her and settling in her chest.

We all look to our final brother. Adar is still in his wolf form, flames leaping and dancing through his fur. His claws dig into the ground, his red tongue lolling out of his mouth, heat coming off him in waves.

Without saying a thing, he shifts to his human form, approaches Ali, and holds up a flame-covered finger. "Where do you want it?"

"What?"

"The burn."

Gathering her hair, the little witch turns her back towards him. "Back of my neck, please."

"Gotcha."

He presses his flaming fingertip to her skin. I wince at the smell of burning flesh. Ali hisses air out through her teeth, holding onto Lucian's magic, the vine wrapped around her calf tightening as her skin burns.

When it's done, a fingertip-shaped burn is raised on the back of her neck. She lets her hair go to cover it, leaving her with a fourth blessing that Adar doesn't bother to explain to her.

But I suppose he doesn't need to explain at all. Fire is an instinctive magic to channel. She'll find it at her fingertips soon enough, when she grows angry or frightened in the presence of a threat.

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