Blood Moon (MalexMale Paranormal Fantasy)

Chapter 28 ∞ DAIRE

As we finish the hour hike to the edge of the coven's estate lands, my stomach flips at approaching my home from this side, the side of an enemy, an attacker searching for a vantage point over the very land I trained and bled on, day after day. The familiar chateau looms in the distance; a once conflicting sight of home and treachery, now a symbol of possibility. The nostalgia settles my stomach, affirming my belief that this fight is worth it, no matter what happens and who we lose, we must have this fight.

The lycan army follows Zeta Shea's orders through private pack bonds. Two reinforced lines flank either side of those of us leading: Mavis, Iso, Prince Tol, Peter, Zeta Braun, Zeta Shea, Rainer, Delta Banks, Reeve, and me. The shifted lycans spread out within the forest, slinking almost invisibly into the cold clouds of the morning, and Iso and Prince Tol depart from our group to oversee them.

Peter is tight to my side, and I smell the building scent of vampyres. We transition into movements that come to me as easy as breathing. I'm poised toward the nearest threat while Peter angles himself to view those slowly surrounding us.

Our companions give us space, recognizing what's about to happen. "Reeve, watch any incoming."

"I got you," he says with impressive confidence.

"We have come for the king," I call to the shocked faces of my covenmates as they slowly recognize me. They're caught in a space of uncertainty; fighting their instincts to bow and pay me my due respect as their prince and following the orders of their general and king.

One vampyre makes a decision and charges while another unearths himself from a grave-like mound and springs up at us, catching Peter's arm with his claws before landing on his feet behind us. At that, they seem to drop from everywhere, sprinting in and launching into trees, leaping between branches and falling between us.

Rainer flanks Reeve, knives slashing across a vampyre's chest as he pounces toward them, ready to shred them apart.

Peter and I work efficiently: a rhythm of back-to-back moves luring our enemies in so that we can dispose of them quickly. I slide my blade across Luc's neck and refuse to dwell on the fact that Peter and I will know almost everyone that we kill today.

Claws appear over the edge of the river banks as vampyres rise from the water and pick off those wolves standing closest. Howls pitch through the air as they're dragged away from their pack and wrestled beneath the waves. The moment they're pulled below leaves an emphasized silence as the sounds of their distress vanish.

Reeve and Rainer are within sight, teaming up with at least six other wolves to overpower any vampyre who nears them. He's safe for now, strength in their numbers, so I move swiftly between clashes to find my uncle.

"Honor," Mavis cries, surging toward the raven-haired priestess hanging naked by her arms from a tree. Dried blood and purple bruises splotch the skin of Priestess Red from face to foot. Her body blinks in and out of existence as if made from particles spun together in the wind—not quite solid and earthly.

As Mavis nears, flames erupt from the ground and light a ring around them, roaring to unreachable heights and singeing the overhanging leaves.

"Mavis!" Peter and I search for a way through the heat, all traces of them blocked by the unyielding whips of red, orange, and blue.

The crackling of the fire turns into high-pitched squeals as if it were alive. Surely, Leven Orange must be here somewhere, wielding her magic flames to protect them.

Mavis blasts through with a force of water, throwing a dark wall of smoke and ash into the sky. She drags her defiled sister toward the Grand River, tempting her water magic to help Honor heal.