Page 92 of Exiled Heir

I slammed my foot down on the creature’s leg.

My foot cracked the stonework, and I felt the reverberation up my leg. Despite my werewolf strength, even I couldn’t break solid stone easily. The circling gargoyles plunged, heading straight for me, but Cade was ready. The spell flew from his hand, landing true on one of the gargoyles. It slithered across his body, a tattooed line like graffiti marring the stonework.

In its wake, it left molten rock falling to the forest floor, burning patches on the ground.

The gargoyle screamed, loud enough that trees trembled around us. It rolled its body, the molten bits of rock flying to the trees. My eyes widened. California was always a tinderbox—one spark and the entire Bartlett forest would go up in flames.

“Do not worry. You take care of the creatures. I will guard the forest as I have for two hundred years.” Someone spoke next to me, and I spun.

The woman was tall, taller than me, and as thin as a narrow tree trunk. Whorls and lines of grain marked her polished wooden flesh. Her hair was a long cascade of green leaves.

“Elder,” I greeted, making an assumption based on her voice.

The gargoyle with Cade’s magic crawling over it crashed into one of the trees, dragging its claws down the trunk, leaving deep grooves and burning wood in its wake.

The other two gargoyles immediately plunged, circling it, trying to get it back aloft.

I was ready. My legs ached with the desire to shift. Every part of me wanted to be a wolf. I needed the sharp claws and tearing teeth, the strength in my muscles and the endurance of my body.

When the gargoyle came crashing to the ground, I leapt on top of it, grabbing hold of one of its wings and wrenching it off entirely. The creature flipped itself over, its claws facing me, its mouth opening in a scream as its eyes flashed. But I was ready.

I slammed its own wing down on one of its claws, using the heft of the stone to smash its paw. It shattered, and the gargoyle went still for a moment before curling in on itself, shrieking and thrashing.

“Net!” I shouted, not even turning to look at Cade.

I felt the magic coming up behind me and leapt out of the way as it landed on top of the gargoyle. Immediately, something hit my back, and I was thrown into the undergrowth. Branches scraped my arms and face, and I struggled to turn. But something was on top of me, digging its claws into my back, wrapping sharp teeth around my neck.

If I was in wolf form, I would know exactly what to do, and I felt a hint of fur emerge, but not enough to bring forth the full wolf.

Careless, Basil hissed in my ear. Then the snake moved—I felt it as it left my throat, and the gargoyle flew backward, thrashing as Basil burned his way across the gargoyle’s paw.

I grabbed hold of the wing I had torn free and used it like a shield, running forward and slamming into the gargoyle, my entire weight falling on top of it. I felt a crack, but that wasn’t enough.

I extended my hand, pressing it on top of Basil where the snake was moving across the gargoyle’s torso. The snake slithered up my arm immediately.

“Fire,” I said. The snake understood, squeezing tightly around my forearm.

I pulled my arm back, then slammed it forward. It was enough to break bones, pummel organs, do damage.

It wasnotenough to break through solid stone. But Basil had strengthened my arm with magic, and when I hit the gargoyle, there was an explosion. Pure magic warped the air between us.

I was thrown backward, hitting the tree trunk hard. The gargoyle had been fully decapitated, its limbs going limp, its head rolling to the side.

The remaining gargoyle screamed, diving toward me, but a net hit it, sending it off-balance, trapping it against a tree trunk.

Tree limbs wrapped around it, tighter and tighter, even as the creature thrashed and screamed. Finally, there was a horrible crack, and the gargoyle went still.

The dryad elder stood at the roots of the tree, bracing both hands against the trunk. We had won.

I collapsed down to my knees, my muscles trembling and jumping. A hairline fracture drew a crooked line of pain up one of my arms, from the bones in my hand straight to my shoulder.

Looking around, I searched for Cade. He leaned against one of the cars, sweat dampening his hair, turning his pale skin waxy. I was across the field of battle in only a few steps, standing next to him, taking some of his weight.

“Are you okay?” I asked stupidly.

“I’m fine,” he said shortly. “Just polishing the car with my ass.”

“I’m going to have to speak with your manager,” I said. “You’re missing a few spots. Careless.”