Page 54 of Prey of the Lycan Queen (Unwanted #2)
Chapter Fifty-Three
Despite the poison of the severed bond gnawing at my insides, I push forward, fueled by my need to find Zirah and my brothers.
The scent of blood and death fills the air, a stark reminder of the price of our rebellion.
The loss of my uncle and so many lives wasted, and all for Slavic’s son, who was not worthy of living in the first place.
I have no idea how far behind my father and my wolves are as I try to squeeze through the narrowing tunnels.
I manage to find another route, but it’s not carved out like the last ones.
I had to break down the barrier of rocks that had fallen, opening it enough to squeeze through, so hopefully my father and Leila find the way.
With the way this mountain trembles, the chances of us getting back out the way we came in are slim.
Stumbling through the dust and darkness, I heave a breath, choking on the fumes and my own blood that keeps bubbling up my throat and out my lips.
Light filters through the dust ahead, a flicker, a tiny ball of light in the distance.
It grows larger with each step before I stumble into another part of this underground tunnel system.
It fans out, opening into a larger space, and I brace a hand on the wall trying to catch my breath just as Zirah shifts into her lycan form.
Her lycan form is not one I’ve seen before.
Her fur is the oddest shade of gray; she almost looks blue.
Yet even in this form, her arms still bear the runes, they stand out brightly like white lighting in the darkness.
She is magnificent, even here, fighting off a group of guards with the feral intensity of a beast. For a fleeting moment, I find myself mesmerized by the sight of her.
It’s as if she embodies a paradox of strength and grace.
The raging storm that’s cloaked in calm.
She is sin draped in virtue. A monster with feminine grace.
I gasp when she is kicked into the wall, her body crashing into the mountain with a force that would kill a human.
Her claws rake down the rock, and fire sparks in their wake.
My stomach knots, and I move to go to her when I am faced with more guards.
Something pierces my side, and I glance at Zirah, trying to keep one eye on her while trying to stay alive.
My elbow connects with the face of whoever came at me from the side.
They stumble back, and one of the vampire’s fangs embed in my arm where it connected with his mouth.
Managing to duck out of the grasp of another guard, my claws hit their mark, penetrating the man’s chest cavity, fingers digging between ribs and bones as I search for his heart. With a sickening squelch, I feel it beat once, twice before the third beat stops as I squeeze.
I glance around trying to see who else is coming for me, but the room is slowly flooding with more guards.
Where do they keep coming from? Dust from the explosions slowly filters in and fills the cavern, making it difficult to see.
Yet I can’t miss Zirah because she is glowing like a lighthouse in the fog.
She moves with lethal precision, her body rippling with raw power, her claws lashing out with deadly accuracy while the witches trapped with her fight to free my brothers.
One by one, their chains fall while what’s left of her coven catches them.
It’s in this very moment that I realize my girl far outshines Litha.
Zirah is not just a priestess or a queen; she is an embodiment of survival, proof of her resilience.
She faces death and burns brightly still.
She fights despite knowing it may kill her because she is all that stands between her coven, her family, and those trying to break them.
This place is literally falling apart, the mountain rumbling under our feet, its foundation cracking, yet she won’t stop, not even when knocked down.
Instead, she sharpens her claws and fights harder.
A piercing scream tears from my lips when an agonizing pain stabs straight through my back. The man whose heart I hold crumples into a heap at my feet, and I feel the guard at my back trying to twist the blade he’s lodged dangerously close to my lungs.
The distraction costs me deeply as another guard comes up.
The blade rips as I try to twist and take out the guard, cutting me open more.
That’s when I see Gnash, Hunter, and Shadow leap into the fray.
Gnash instantly takes down the man who holds the knife while I twist to grab another.
We take down the guards in our path. Our wolves’ ferocity is a sight to behold as they clear the way for our escape.
Leila and my father finally rush into the chaos, their faces etched with determination. My father’s gaze sweeps over the scene before settling on Lyon and Zeke.
“Get them out of here!” I order him.
Without waiting for his response, I make it to Zirah’s side, standing back-to-back with her. The sight of my father, burdened with the weight of my injured brothers, fills me with a strange mix of relief and dread as I watch the lights above his head shake before they disappear.
One by one, the remaining coven members flee, leaving Zirah and me to confront King Slavic and the last of the guards.
We are all that stands in their way to her fleeing coven and my brothers and father.
I stand by Zirah’s side, our breaths mingling in the silence, both of us bleeding and broken but too angry to concede.
We launch ourselves toward them, fighting with a synchronized rage of claws and blades. We dodge and weave through the guards, claws against flesh, everything becoming a blur of fur and fangs.