Fate Mate

Chapter 42

Black Lupis. Witch. Rogue.

An impossibly organized cluster spread across the flat terrain at the heart of Black Lupis territory. Each group was its own entity, and yet, gathered in front of the pack house, they presented a united front. Magic prickled through the air, courtesy of the Gemini coven witches who were spread evenly across the battlefront. The magic mingled with the sound of snarls and howls, as an army of wolves pawed impatiently at the ground.

Only minutes separated us from battle, and my body shook from where I stood in an upstairs window of the packhouse.

Our army was quite a sight to behold. A sight that could have driven fear into the hearts of even the most experienced adversary. Standing at the front of the army, two black Alphas stared at the shadows in the forest edge. One hundred yards separated them from the tree-line, where they could undoubtedly already hear the thunder of hybrid footsteps.

Guilt shredded my stomach to ribbons, and I tore my gaze away from the clearing and back to the bedroom where I sought refuge. Angelina sat on the edge of the bed, eyes closed as she silently recited Latin phrases again and again. More practice for the spell that might save the lives of those in the clearing below. The ring and an impossibly sharp knife rested by her side.

"If you don't know the spell by now, I'm probably screwed." My lip trembled even as I spoke the teasing words.

Angelina slowly opened one eye. "I'm not practicing, smartass. I'm asking my ancestors for guidance."

"Oh," I bit my lip. "Are they... saying anything back?"

The young witch huffed, as if she couldn't believe my question. "We aren't having a riveting conversation, Charlie. They're dead, after all. But I can feel their energy. It fills me-- fuels my own magic, in a sense. They are anxious but not angry."

"Angry?" I questioned, clenching and unclenching my fists.

Angelina nodded. "If they didn't agree with my decision to perform the resurrection spell, I would sense their anger. They must think we are doing the right thing."

That lifted my spirit, at least for a moment. I swallowed and turned back to the window. The scene below remained unchanged, except the restlessness in the clearing seemed to have come to a close. Wolves no longer pawed at the dirt, and the witches' magic seemed to have paused its churning. My lips parted.

And then, everything erupted. Nolan led the charge, lurching forward to spearhead an attack towards the daunting treeline. He had seen something that I could not, and every soldier reared back to charge after him. A united front, led by my mate.

Finally, I saw what they were stampeding toward. The hybrids broke through the treeline seconds later, like an avalanche of hellish creatures and demons. Some were in their vampiric form, appearing relatively human despite blinding speed. Others had already transformed. The hybrids took on the form of sickly, skinny creatures, with shadows cloaking their body rather than their fur.

An abomination that would end the packs if we didn't stop them.

I stopped breathing-- stopped thinking-- as the two groups collided and chaos ensued. Nolan's massive black form made first contact, catapulting into the body of a particularly large hybrid midair. My mate's jowls clamped around the the hybrid's neck, snapping bone and flesh with ease.

I let out a long breath at the sight of my mate dismembering his opponent with ease. The other werewolves around him seemed to be taking care of their adversaries in a similar manner. More fights were breaking out across the clearing, and werewolves were emerging victorious. The witches were dropping groups of hybrids with a single glance.