Page 62 of Bound to Exiles (Rejected Wolf Pack #5)

She nodded, and we both shifted, my wolf arising eagerly, feeling much stronger than my human form now that I’d drained all my magic.

As soon as my mystical mate had shifted, lightning sparked to life in her fur.

It crackled from the tip of her tail to the point of her ear, lighting up the dark basement with unnatural brightness.

“Let me help,” I said, sipping on her magic through our Bonded link.

Instead of trying to cast a spell, I opened myself to her power, becoming a conduit for her magic rather than a source of my own. Through our bond, I guided her energy, showing her how to direct it with intent rather than emotion.

The air around us began to crackle with energy. Freya’s eerie blue eyes glowed brighter, and tiny arcs of lightning danced across her black pupils. I held firm, channeling her power toward the table of stones.

“Now,” I urged. “Release it.”

With a visceral cry, Freya unleashed her power.

Lightning erupted from her, so bright I lost sight of the table.

The world blanked to white, but I heard the sound of rock clattering against rock as fragments flew in all directions.

My mage half felt it when the curses contained within them shattered.

The basement went dark as all the stones stopped glowing, along with all the crystals.

But what scared me most was that Freya’s fur no longer flickered with electricity.

The sudden absence suggested her Odinswolf power had been completely drained.

If it worked anything like mage magic… the rebound would have to go somewhere.

“Brace yourself,” I warned through our bond, but it was too late.

The magical backlash hit us like a physical wall, the energy from the destruction of the curse rebounding through the air with violent force.

I tried to shield Freya as we were both hurled against the cinder-block walls, the impact driving the breath from our lungs.

For a terrifying moment, her lightning stayed dark, her power utterly spent from the massive expenditure.

Then, slowly, tiny sparks began to flicker back to life in her fur as her Odinswolf nature reasserted itself.

Through the pack bond with Gage, I felt echoes of shock and relief. He was the pack alpha of both packs, and through him I sensed our Frost Fang packmates suddenly shake off the shackles of the witches’ curse.

“Are you okay?” I asked Freya.

“Never better.” Her tongue lolled out in a wolfish grin as her lightning reignited, illuminating the area around her.

The delicate-looking wolf shook out her coat, and a cloud of dust floated around her. My majestic mate came toward me as what looked like gravel crunched beneath her paws. Some of the cinder blocks behind her had been completely destroyed.

“Are you?” she asked.

I struggled to my paws. We were both drained — magically and physically — but alive and victorious. I shook out my coat as well, but before I could reply, Gage’s stunned voice came through our link.

“It worked. The Frost Fang wolves are coming back to themselves.”

“We destroyed the stones,” Freya replied, her mental voice weary but triumphant.

“All of them?” Gage asked.

“Everything that was down here. Probably not Heath’s and the other prisoners’ stones,” I hedged. “But that includes unused stones as well. They won’t be cursing anyone for a while.”

Joy surged through our bond. We had won this battle, though the war was far from over. Dryden had escaped, and many of the Ashworth witches with him, but we had dealt them a significant blow.

“Regroup,” Gage decided. “Meet us at the throne room.”

His order took hold, and Freya and I made our way back up the stairs and through the study. The Frost Fang wolves who had guided us were gone, probably having gone to help their packmates freed from the curse.

We navigated through the corridors to find three witches sprawled across the floor, their eyes rolled back and blood trickling from their noses.

The magical backlash from their destroyed spellwork had left them unconscious and vulnerable.

My wolf urged me to finish them, to tear out their throats while they couldn't defend themselves. But we had more important things to do — and Gage’s alpha command weighed heavily on me, quickening my steps toward the throne room.

As soon as we arrived, Gage’s order eased, and I gazed up the steps. It felt like so long since we’d been here, but it had been less than two weeks. Gage, Rowan, and Flint were already there, their wolf forms bearing the marks of battle.

Gage’s wolf barreled across the large room, bounding over bodies on his way to meet his mate. They rubbed along each other’s bodies, sniffing each other all the while.

Gage let out a powerful sneeze, and I chuckled. He looked down at me, then rubbed along my body, too, his larger wolf making me feel safe and protected.

“You did it,” he said, his mental voice rough with emotion. “Both of you.”

Rowan and Flint joined us, both of them rubbing along Freya to assure themselves she was okay before surprising me by doing the same to me.

Mates, my wolf insisted. Bite and claim!

Only Heath’s absence kept the moment from being perfect.

“Where’s Heath?” Flint asked, clearly thinking the same.

“The Bloody Dawn took him and the other prisoners somewhere safe,” Freya assured him.

Rowan’s head snapped up, nostrils flaring. “I still smell Dryden,” he growled, his golden eyes flashing. “He might still be here.”

Gage’s golden eyes practically glowed with anticipation. “Let’s find out.”