Page 88 of Alastair

“It doesn’t matter if he knows we’re here.” Galen cracked his knuckles. “By the end of the night, he’ll be choking on his own blood.”

Simon had stayed at the wolves’ camp while we’d journeyed to the castle. The human would’ve only gotten in the way, having no fighting skills and tripping over his own two feet. His absence brought out a wilder side of Wrath. Which was what we needed—a force of pure muscle and rage.

Half of the wolf pack and several of Baxter and Sirena’s warriors had stayed in the forest as well to guard the nexus in case Lucifer or the witches managed to reach it, while Lycus and the rest of the wolves had come with us.

The great white wolf surveyed the castle grounds. On all fours, he stood at eye level with Daman. So different than the sickly and frail child he’d been when I’d first met him in the run-down hovel he and Daman had once called home. I had known he’d lived but had lied so Daman would move on from him. The two of them now stood side by side once again.

Suddenly, a deep growl reverberated through Lycus’ chest, and he snapped his head up toward the treetops.

Vepar landed on an overhead branch, his all-white sword glimmering among the falling snow. “Fancy seeing all of you here.”

Shock flitted through me. I hadn’t been able to sense his presence. Michael hadn’t either.

“Up to your old tricks again, I see,” Alastair said. “Masking your scent.”

“Why change my old tricks when they work so well?” Vepar grinned, then moved his eyes to me. The light gray color appeared white in certain lightning. His golden skin and long silver hair made the lightness of them pop even more. “I learned I can use the air around me as a sort of cloak. Not even you or Michael sensed me coming. Neat, huh?”

Michael summoned his sword. A symbol was etched into the top of the blade near the hilt, glowing a bright blue.Defendwas what it stood for, much like the male who wielded it. A defender of the weak. Protector of the realms.

“Oh, dearest brother.” Vepar tsked. “Why don’t you put away your sword and instead come inside the castle? Our king is waiting for you.” He glanced between the cursed sons, stopping at Alastair. “You especially.”

My blood boiled, and on impulse, I stepped in front of Alastair. His hand came around my forearm. Just the lightest of touches, but it calmed the raging storm inside me. The breaking of the seal had amplified my protectiveness over him.

“Lucifer is no king,” Michael said. “He’s a tyrant who will answer for his crimes.”

A cunning smile formed on Vepar’s lips. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

“Listen here, Sparkles.” Raiden unsheathed his sword. “We ain’t here to play games. Step aside before I turn you to fairy dust.”

“Fairy dust?” Vepar cocked his head. “I… I can’t even take your threat seriously. You’re like a Care Bear with a pointy stick.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m gonna take this pointy stick and jab it up your ass. Make a sparkly kabob. Not to eat though. I ate glitter before and shit it out for a week. Never doin’ that again.”

Titan laughed.

“How shameful.” Vepar focused on me. Both anger and disappointment crossed his face. “Your purity has been tainted, Lazarus. I wanted to be the one to defile you.”

Michael’s wings sprang from his back before he bolted upright, moving so fast Vepar didn’t see him coming until Michael’s sword was slashing in the air inches from his face. The air cloaking Vepar was the only thing that saved him. The thin barrier gave just enough resistance for him to move out of the way before the blade cut his face in two.

Nephilim appeared in the sky, rushing toward the trees like a cauldron of bats. Sirena, Baxter, and Naida leapt into the air, swords drawn, to meet them head-on. The dragons transformed into their hybrid forms—the water clan with blue and green scales, while the ice dragons had different shades of white and pale blue.

As an earth dragon, Daichi had grass-green scales and horns that looked like the bark of a cherry tree. Oliver dropped beside him, and the two of them faced an incoming horde of shades. The demons screeched as they ran through the snow, their smoking bodies reeking of rot and char.

Purah appeared in the field not far from the tree line, black wings thin and skeletal, the feathers tougher, like leather. Snow caught in his ash-streaked black hair as he lifted his arms. His green eyes glowed.

The ground shook beneath us.

“He’s raising the dead,” I said.

“Dead?” Castor asked. “What dead?”

A hand burst through the snow and grabbed his ankle. The high-pitched scream that left Castor’s lips nearly deafened me in one ear.

“Zombie!” Gray struck with his sword, slicing the hand from the arm.

“Holy fuck, it’s still holding on!” Castor kicked out his leg. The detached hand squeezed his ankle before crawling up. “Jesus Christ, get it off me!”

Kyo grabbed it from his calve and flung it away. Despite the intensity of the situation, he laughed, then coughed to cover it. The rest of the corpse had emerged from the snow, nothing but bones with thin strands of hair stuck to the skull.