Page 45 of The Wolf and the Chimera (The Witch and the Cowboy #3)

“If Helios says his granddaughter can do it,” the sea god continued, “then she can do it.”

His granddaughter?

My gaze shot to the dark-haired beauty. Circe was related to Helios, and she had called the sorceress her niece…

No wonder her power blends so well with mine.

We were both connected to the Sun god.

I stared and stared at the sorceress’s true form. The man beside her whispered something in her ear, too low for even my chimera’s ears to catch, and the sorceress’s lips twitched.

Her Anchor, I realized.

The man—no, warlock— beside Medea was her Anchor.

In a flash of light, a bearded, brown-haired man appeared, but it was the child at Hermod’s side that caught my attention. Though her lip was split and her dark hair was disheveled, I recognized Helena.

Anassa went rigid, and the heat of her magic emanated from her.

“Wait,” the man on her other side hissed. “We have to wait until they’re in the heat of the spell and thoroughly distracted to strike.”

Anassa trembled, as if she fought every instinct to keep from running to the child. My heart galloped in my chest like a wild beast.

“Will this work for your spell?” Hermod asked the sorceress.

She grinned, and her feral, wild glee churned my stomach. I would’ve recognized it on any face, in any form.

“She’s perfect,” Medea crooned. “Let’s begin.”

When Medea reached for the child, Helena moved with the swiftness of a predator. She dodged Medea’s grasp, then lunged away from Hermod. Running for her life, Helena reached the first white step of the temple, then the second.

Magic thrummed, and the child froze midstride.

Anassa shook with rage and fear and bottled power.

“Good,” Medea purred. “She’s strong.”

Medea curled her finger toward herself, and the child turned toward her like a puppet on strings, but not before I caught the tears that spilled down her cheeks.

Footsteps boomed like thunder across the temple, and Zeus, King of the Gods approached. His electric blue eyes studied the weeping chimera with cold assessment. He brushed his silver hair aside and cocked his head.

“Indeed,” he agreed. “Power runs hot in her blood.”

Helena walked woodenly toward a dais in the center of the gods, and my heart thudded like a death drum. Still crying, the girl laid down.

That must’ve been what I looked like, I thought.

I could still feel the smooth stone beneath me that I had laid on for days in that infernal half-sleep, trapped in my own mind and prone body.

With her Anchor at her side, Medea pulled a book free from the folds of her cloak, and my power sang at the small, leather-bound object. Its magic hummed so deep and low, it vibrated my sternum. Medea placed the book on a podium and cleared her throat.

When she spoke, my mind didn’t recognize the ancient language, but my body did. My blood pumped louder in my veins, and my magic burned hotter in my heart. My skin tingled, and my breath grew ragged.

"Jason," Medea murmured to her Anchor. "Some help?"

As Medea continued her spell, Jason unsheathed a wickedly sharp dagger with an ornately crafted brass handle and approached the nearest god, Zeus. With a quick slice, he cut the king’s palm. Zeus approached Helena and wiped his golden ichor on the girl’s brow.

Anassa shook with restraint and took a deep, shuddering breath. Helena’s father squeezed her hand with white knuckles.

“Do something,” I whispered. “You have to do something.”

After each god had offered their own ichor, Jason approached Medea and offered his Anchor the blade.

Medea sliced her palm without a flinch and joined her blood with that of the gods’.

That ancient language continued to flow from her lips.

Her voice grew louder and deeper, distorted by the wicked spell she weaved.

She raised the dagger over Helena’s heart, and the shifters struck.

Fast as light, Anassa shifted and lunged at the witch. As Medea tumbled, the dagger clattered from her hands. From shadows and crevices and greenery, shifters emerged from their hiding spots.

Huge tigers, rippling with stripes and corded muscles, cornered Jason. Hawks swarmed the gods in swooping attacks. Wolves surrounded Selene, and bears threw their behemoth animal forms at the columns. The temple shook.

I tried to call on my power, to do anything to help them, but I was nothing more than a wisp. I couldn’t warn them that the gods smirked knowingly or that Medea, though bloodied, was far from incapacitated.

Shadows shrouded shifter after shifter, leaving them screaming and disoriented.

At first, I thought such vicious power had come from one of the gods, but Jason’s eyes had darkened, and shadows weaved through his fingers like smoke.

He distracted the shifters, and Medea scrambled for her dagger.

Anassa, brilliant and brutal in her chimera form, intercepted her, only to be frozen in place by Medea’s terrible power.

“Out of my way,” Medea hissed and threw the warrior queen aside.

The other chimeras roared their outrage and launched themselves at the gods with renewed vigor, only to hit shimmering, magical shields.

“No,” I whispered. No one heard me. “No, no, no…”

The rest of the shifters reconfigured themselves, until they bordered the temple in defensive crouches.

Not to attack the gods, I realized, but to keep the chimeras from escaping.

The chimeras backed away from the gods, but there was nowhere to go. They were surrounded.

Serene gazed fondly at the nearest wolf. “I’m glad you could get them to see reason.”

Anassa lifted herself from where she had fallen and shifted forms. When she stood on two, tan legs, pure sunlight adorned her body like a gown, and her eyes glowed like burning flames.

Her power throbbed in the air, mighty even among gods.

When her gaze swept over the spineless shifters, they tucked their heads, unable to bear her scrutiny.

“You will regret this,” she warned.

Anassa looked to Helios, God of the Sun.

“You will regret it too,” she promised.

“I think her crown has gone to her head,” Zeus mused. “Let’s remind these chimeras what it is to be mortal.”

Anassa didn’t break her gaze from her patron god, nor did she simper at his feet and beg for salvation.

Helios swallowed. “Kill them.”