Page 39

JACE

P ain.

White-hot. Bone-deep. Unrelenting.

That’s what greeted Jace as he stumbled to his feet, blood dripping from his ribs, his breath ragged with each step.

But he moved anyway. Because she was still standing.

Because Lyra, his mate, his storm, his chaos—was in the center of that hellfire battlefield, surrounded by Ezra’s magic and the spirits she’d summoned with blood and will.

And no one was touching her without going through him first.

He shifted, the transformation slow, forced, every muscle screaming in protest. His wolf form gave him strength, but it was barely holding together. Blood seeped through fur. The air smelled like ash and death.

Yet all he could see was her .

Lyra stood in a ring of glowing roots and whispering wind, her eyes glowing with arcane light.

Her voice lifted in chant, ancient syllables rolling off her tongue like thunder in slow motion.

She was calling down the final binding—one meant to sever Ezra’s hold on his rogue wolves, on the land he’d corrupted, on the pack he’d tried to dismantle.

But Ezra wasn’t done.

He lunged from the shadows, magic flaring around his blade, his form still human—but warped, eyes wild, lips curled into something unhinged.

“No!” Jace snarled and charged, ignoring the searing pain that ripped down his spine.

Ezra turned too late.

Jace hit him like a train.

They rolled across the battlefield, claws and steel, teeth and fists. Ezra roared and slashed again—catching Jace’s already-wounded side. He howled in pain but didn’t stop.

“You’re done!” Jace growled, pinning him with raw force.

Ezra spat blood, grinning. “I almost took her.”

“You never had a chance.”

Jace’s jaws snapped an inch from his throat.

Ezra surged with one final burst of energy but behind them, Lyra’s voice reached its crescendo.

“By pact and flame, by root and sky— be bound or be undone! ”

A blast of light exploded outward, pure and blinding.

Ezra screamed.

The ground split open beneath him, runes flaring gold and violet as the forest spirits surrounded him, whispering judgment with every step. His form twisted, magic torn from his veins. His weapon shattered. And with one last howl of fury and fear— He vanished. Swallowed by earth and spell.

Silence fell. Slow. Final.

Jace slumped to the ground, his wolf form fading as he shifted back. He hit the dirt hard, coughing, the world swimming in and out of focus.

But footsteps came.

Soft. Familiar.

She was there, falling to her knees beside him.

“Jace!”

He blinked up at her, reaching weakly. “Hey, witchling.”

“Don’t you dare pull that charming-alpha nonsense right now,” she choked out, hands already glowing with healing light. “You scared me half to death.”

“Only half?” He coughed a laugh. “Slacking, then.”

Her fingers pressed to his wound, magic sinking into his skin. It hurt, but in a clean way. A mending way.

“You saved me,” she whispered.

He caught her wrist. “No. You saved me this time.”

She laughed, tears slipping down her cheeks.

“I love you,” she said, breath shaking.

She leaned closer, pressing her forehead to his. “I love you, Jace Montgomery. Stubborn, grumpy, pain-in-my-ass Alpha that you are.”

“I love you too,” he said, no hesitation this time. “I think I did from the second you walked into my office with your big eyes and your bigger mouth.”

She laughed again and kissed him, soft and sweet, magic humming between them.

The battle was over. Ezra was gone.

But they had just begun.