51. Shya

Chapter fifty-one

Shya

I raced forward, teeth bared, claws digging into the soft earth. The scent of fear and blood filled the air as wolves were flung aside by AJ's enraged form. Bodies collided, snarls and yelps echoing through the trees. Then all thoughts disappeared as I slammed into a fleeing wolf. I ducked under a swinging claw, then countered with a bite to my attacker's flank. Blood filled my mouth as my teeth sank deep into their flesh. They yelped and twisted, trying to break free, but I held on, trying to drag him down. As we hit the ground, I released my grip and immediately lunged for his throat. He barely managed to roll away, scrambling to his feet with a snarl.

We circled each other, hackles raised, teeth bared. From the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of movement. Another wolf was charging at me from the side. Then Mason barreled into them, sending them flying in the opposite direction. I didn't hesitate; I pounced on my wolf attacker, my claws raking across his throat. He whimpered, dashed out of range, and then collapsed in a pool of blood.

A few yards away, I glimpsed Mason locked in his own fierce battle. He was poetry in motion as he faced off against three wolves. He ducked and weaved, his movements fluid and precise. One attacker lunged at him, but Mason side-stepped and whipped his hand out, grabbed the wolf's hind leg, and used the momentum to slam him into a nearby tree.

I didn't have time to get distracted. I spun around, narrowly avoiding a set of snapping jaws. I darted in, my teeth finding his soft underbelly. He howled in pain and ran for the trees.

Coward.

There was no time to catch my breath. Two werewolves in human form were sprinting toward me, trying to get away from AJ, both holding silver knives. I growled low in my throat, my muscles coiling, as the first one lunged, knife slashing through the air where my throat had been a moment before. I feinted left, then abruptly changed direction, throwing myself to the right. The silver blade whistled past my ear as I pivoted and launched myself at the attacker, my jaws aiming for his knife arm.

He jerked back, but not fast enough. My teeth grazed his forearm, drawing blood. He hissed in pain, his grip on the knife loosening. Seizing the opportunity, I clamped down harder and wrenched my head to the side, feeling tendons and muscle tear beneath my fangs.

The knife clattered to the ground, and I released his arm, ready to finish him off. But his partner had circled behind me, and I felt the sting of silver as his blade nicked my flank. I yelped, more in surprise than pain, and whirled to face him as I felt the knife slice across my hide. Then a weight slammed into my side. The first man had recovered, picked up the knife with his uninjured hand, and thrown himself at me. We rolled, a tangle of fur, limbs, and flashing silver. As we came to a stop, I found myself on top, pinning him down with my weight. His eyes widened in fear as I loomed over him. I didn't hesitate but ripped this throat out with one bite.

Before his partner could come at me, I charged forward. As he crouched to block me, I leaped high, sailing over his head. I twisted in mid-air, landing behind him. He half-turned and slashed with his knife, but my teeth found their mark on the back of his neck. He collapsed beneath me, screaming, more in terror than pain, as I drove him face-first into the ground. He went still under me, and I was up and off to face the next attacker.

Through the mayhem, I caught glimpses of AJ. He was a force of nature, his massive form leaving a wake of broken bodies wherever he went. Derek and Sam darted in and out, herding him toward the thickest clusters of enemies.

I had just killed another wolf when a chill shuddered through me, and I heard it. The chanting, soft and insidious, trying to weave its way inside my head. I turned my head and spotted a figure on the edge of the clearing—Tristan's witch.

He was shrouded in a black cloak that seemed to absorb the moonlight. His face was hidden in the depths of his hood, but I could feel his eyes on me.

The chanting in my head grew louder, a deep, resonant hum that seemed to vibrate through my very bones.

I shook my head, trying to clear it, but the chanting just got louder. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mason stumble, his movements becoming erratic. I looked left and saw Derek, Sam, Milly, and Jem all on their knees, clutching their heads.

Panic rose in my chest. I knew this feeling, this invasion of my mind. My wolf growled, pushing back against it. I couldn't go back under Tristan's control, not now. I had no doubt that if the witch won this, I would end up mated to Tristan by dawn, Mason and his brothers dead. And without Derek and Sam to marshal AJ, the bear would tear into my Pack and family. I could feel the tendrils slipping through my defenses and wrapping around my mind, squeezing tight.

What was I doing? Why was I fighting Tristan? He was my true mate. He was a visionary. I should be protecting him, not attacking him. I felt a rush of guilt and shame. What had I done? I lay down on the ground and whimpered.

Stay alive. I will come for you.

My eyes fell on Mason. He was on his knees, one hand braced against the forest floor, the other holding his head. His face was screwed up in concentration and pain, and my heart jolted as I saw a wolf heading straight for him, teeth bared.

Stay alive. I will come for you.

Mason had said that in my dreams. He had kept his promise; he had come for me. I would not let him down. The chanting faltered for a second, then came back, stronger this time.

No! I would not be a puppet again.

I stood up, one limb at a time. It was so fucking hard. Like I was encased in compacted mud and was trying to break free.

Stay alive. I will come for you.

I'm coming for you, baby.

I had broken free before; I could do it again. My wolf slammed into the front of my mind, howling with rage, and I pulled free. A loud snap echoed in my head, but I didn't have time to think. I took a running jump and leaped over Mason. I sailed through the air, my body a taut line of fur and muscle. Time seemed to slow as I arced over Mason, my eyes locked on the charging wolf, and I used every ounce of my strength and momentum to slam into the attacker.

We collided with a bone-jarring impact, sending us both skittering away from my mate. This wolf was larger, but I had the advantage of training and desperation. I fought with a ferocity born of love and fear, my teeth clamping onto the wolf's throat. The wolf thrashed and bucked, trying to dislodge me, but nothing was going to make me loosen my grip. His struggles weakened, then stopped as he went limp beneath me.

I spun around, my eyes searching for Mason. He was still on his knees, still in pain, still fighting it. That's when I saw Esme. She was a hundred yards from the other witch, her small frame radiating power. Her face, usually warm and kind, now blazed with an inner fire. She raised her hands, palms out toward the witch, and I felt a shift in the air around us.

The witch's hooded head jerked toward Esme.

"Naughty, naughty!" Esme scolded.

The witch whirled his hands around as if throwing a baseball toward Esme. She smiled, flicked one finger in an upward motion, then made a scooping gesture with her other hand. The witch stumbled back, and Mason surged to his feet, shaking his head. Around the clearing, others were rising, too—Derek, Sam, Milly, Jem. The witch's hold on them had broken.

The witch took a step back. His cloak billowed around him, and in a blink, he vanished into the shadows of the forest.

Sam darted after him. AJ roared ferociously to the right, and Sam immediately changed course. The others wasted no time and followed Sam back into the fray.