She would save the nuclear option as a last resort.
As Erickson circled her, his blood-soaked shirt clung to his torso and glistened ominously in the dim light. She allowed him near enough to land a couple blows, then refused to let her body heal. It didn’t take long for her to begin bleeding like a slaughtered pig.
“I don’t need your obedience.” Lust gleamed in his eyes at the sight of her blood. He lifted his hand, licking the dark crimson off his claws with a look of ecstasy. “I’ll take it. Power thrums in your blood. Unlike the others, you’re a never-ending fountain. I can drink you dry, and you’ll come back to feed me over and over.”
But Annora wasn’t sure she would be back.
Had Edgar been the one who forced her back to the human realm, or was it the afterworld itself? If Erickson killed her, it could very well be permanent, and she refused to die unless she took him with her. “You’re addicted to blood, and it’s driven you insane.”
Erickson threw back his head and laughed, the booming sound reverberating across the battlefield. “I’ve never been saner. I’ve been killing for years, and none of these fools even suspected. Shifter blood has allowed me to heal faster and made me stronger. Only it wears off.”
He scowled, clearly pissed to have that rush of power denied him. “That’s when I discovered your blood. Your uncle gave me a sample, and I created an elixir that lasts even longer.” Practically slavering, he stared at her. “But imagine how strong I could be when I have your pure blood pumping through my system! I will be unstoppable. I will be immortal.”
It took everything in her to remain still and ignore the way the darkness nipped and stung along her wounds, demanding that she heal.
A wickedly dangerous idea slammed into her.
He wanted her blood—what would happen if she gave it to him?
One little taste and he already craved it.
If she could somehow get more of her blood into his body, she wouldn’t need to lay a hand on him to end this. While he might be strong, he wasn’t built to withstand the powers of the afterworld. If called, the darkness would respond to the demands of her blood.
She was staking her life on it.
The only problem was she had no clue how much blood was needed. To be on the safe side, the more the better. She’d wait until the last moment to test her theory.
Putting her plan in action, she pressed her hand against the wicked cut along her thigh, forcing more blood to spill between her fingers and coat her hands. When he got close enough, she lashed out, smearing her blood on whatever skin she could reach, gasping when his claws raked down her side in a move that nearly gutted her.
She staggered away, dropping to one knee when she lost her balance, then glanced up to see his smug face gloating down at her, and her soul shriveled at the malicious gleam in his eyes.
“Oh, don’t worry, dear. I have no intention of killing you—yet.” His smile vanished, leaving only cruelty behind. “Not until you suffer for what you’ve cost me. We need some time alone, time that won’t be interrupted by your pets.”
Heart slamming against her ribs, her gaze shot past him to scan the battleground. She spotted her guys instantly—they were cutting a wide swath through the troops, and she sucked in a sharp breath of relief at seeing them alive.
“Take down her mates.” Erickson’s command resounded across the battlefield, the order so full of power, the battle around her halted, and fighters from both sides turned toward her team.
Her men halted their charge, going back-to-back as they surveyed the threat. Their faces were hard masks of determination while they waited for the first wave of attack. There was no fear or worry, only pure determination to reach her. Something inside her shriveled when snarls rippled through the air, and the different packs all lunged at once.
Edgar, despite all his power, went down hard, the expression on his face resigned…like he’d never expected to come out of the battle alive. Only a few yards away, the rest of the men were buried under an avalanche of bodies.
She felt each blow, each slash of claws.
Felt bones crunch and splinter.
Beyond the pile, she saw Greenwood and a handful of men work their way toward the writhing mass, flinging people away right and left. His gaze met hers, and she saw the devastating truth in his eyes—he would never reach them in time.
He would try, but he would fail.
She gave him a nod of understanding, silently urging him to try anyway.
Greenwood bowed his head in acknowledgment, bringing his fist up to settle over his heart—a vow he would do everything in his power to save her boys.
It had to be enough.
He bent and picked up the pelt that lay at his feet and swung it around his shoulders. She watched in fascination as it wrapped around him, fur spilling down his chest and arms until he dropped down onto all fours in the shape of a raging, half-ton brown grizzly bear.
He lifted his head and let out a giant roar that vibrated in the air, his mouth opening wide enough to crush skulls. He was both majestic and beastly, a monster born to kill. Then he charged into battle, grabbing one unfortunate soul by the leg, snapping it in half and flinging the poor sod a good twenty feet to land in a heap.
She’d never seen a skinwalker in action, and she hoped she’d never have to come face-to-face with one in a fight. Knowing he’d do his best for her men, Annora turned toward Erickson, just in time for him to grab her by her throat, his claws digging into her flesh until blood trickled down her neck.
He lifted her off her feet, leaving her dangling off the ground like a fish on a hook. She grabbed his wrists, kicking her legs, but didn’t try to escape.
Not yet.
It was too soon, especially if she only got one chance to bring him down.
She inhaled through the pain, letting it flood her system, feeling her senses heighten.
He inhaled deeply, his eyes dropping betrayingly to the fresh wounds, and he licked his lips. “By the time you wake up you’ll be completely mine.”
His very own fucking cornucopia. She’d never run dry, never die…at least not permanently.
He pulled her closer, tipping his head to lick at the blood along her neck, his tongue feeling like a slug crawling across her skin. She grimaced, everything inside her rebelling at the thought of being a snack. When his breath touched her skin, repulsion made her shudder, and she couldn’t stop the way she squirmed to get away, shoving at his shoulders to put distance between them.
Then all thoughts of her plan scattered when she saw the wreck of what was once Logan as he staggered across the muddy battlefield.
It looked like he'd crawled out of hell.
And he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.
But her joy was short-lived. Something was horribly wrong. As she studied his blank expression, she saw nothing of her Logan remaining in his faded blue eyes. He looked neither right nor left, as if the only thing he could see was Erickson.
The shifters on the battlefield fought like good little brainwashed monsters, none of them even bothering to attack Logan, and she realized Erickson hadn’t rescinded his order for Logan to remain unharmed while under his care.
Thank fuck.
She’d needed a bit of good news.
Erickson lapped at her wounds, the feel of his wet tongue sliding along her skin making her gag. He dug his fingers into her flesh, squeezing hard to keep the blood flowing, so consumed with his hunger he was oblivious to everything else.
Fear turned her stomach sour.
There was no more time to stall.
If Logan got any closer, Erickson would kill him if for no reason other than to punish her. Annora lifted up her legs, planting her feet against his chest, doing her best to shove off him.
Only his grip remained unbreakable.
She was too weak, allowed him to take too much blood.
Black spots speckled her vision, and she blinked slowly, struggling to remember the plan.<
br />
Dark particles nipped along her skin, setting every nerve ending afire with the urge to kill. As agony pierced her, rational thought returned, along with her determination.
Eyes locked on Logan, she pulled on the afterworld. It licked hungrily at her flesh, slowly healing her. No matter how hard she tried to push it into Erickson, it refused her demand, determined to see to her wounds first.
Just as she was beginning to feel her heart sputter, Sadie appeared next to them with her sword raised. She brought the blade down on Erickson’s arm hard enough to cut through his flesh. The edge became wedged securely into the bone, his enhanced body making him stronger than other shifters.
Annora landed on the ground, barely strong enough to keep herself from collapsing, the breath knocked out of her.
Erickson roared in pain, his huge fangs flashing, and he backhanded Sadie across the face. She sailed a few feet away and landed with a thud, too dazed to move, stuck at Erickson’s mercy.
Annora could do nothing while she watched Erickson yank the blade out of his own arm with a grunt, then swing it toward Sadie.
The phantom scrambled backward in slow motion…much too slow to escape.
Only for the sword to falter when Erickson stumbled forward.
Instead of taking off her head, he’d sliced her clear across the throat.
Sadie grabbed her neck, tried to stem the bleeding, but it spilled through her fingers and down her chest. Eyes wide, she dropped to her knees, wheezing as blood gurgled out of her mouth. Their eyes met, her dark ones pleading with her to take care of Edgar after she was gone.
Then Edgar was there to catch Sadie, cradling her in his arms as he lowered her to the ground. Annora felt a devastating wrench that he went to Sadie and not her.
He was bleeding, his impeccable clothing rumpled, his hair wild and untamed, but it was the tortured look in his eyes that shattered her heart.
Feeling sick, Annora dragged herself to her feet.
When Erickson turned, she saw what appeared to be a crowbar sticking out of his back, clear through his spine. Bones gleamed as he dropped the sword and tried to reach behind him and wrench out the weapon.
Logan was breathing heavily, swaying on his feet, looking like a light breeze would knock him flat, clearly at the end of his endurance.
He’d used the last of his strength to get to her.
Then he grinned like a fool, his teeth coated with blood, his lips cracked, his face swollen and bloody, accepting his death, almost happy to leave the pain and suffering behind.
Annora recognized the sentiment, having felt it plenty of times herself.
She refused to let him go so easily.
“Erickson!” She screamed his name, scooping up the sword and slicing the edge across her palm. Blood immediately pooled from the wound, dripping between her fingers, and she waved the bloody hand at him, only backing away when his wolf caught her scent. “If you want to survive,” she taunted, “you’ll need my blood.”
His eyes gleamed yellow as the predator in him rose to the surface.
He dismissed the others and began to stalk her.
Chapter Twenty
Erickson cocked his head at her, wolf cunning staring out at her from behind his eyes. Then he licked his lips, as if he could already taste her blood pouring down his throat. He reached back, ramming the crowbar through his torso, more blood spilling down his chest. Then he calmly reached down and wrenched the metal out of his ribcage.
“Annora, no.” Logan scurried toward her, stumbling over his own feet, only to have Erickson kick him in the chest hard enough to send him flying backwards. Bones shattered under the blow. He landed with a crunch, then lay unmoving, and something inside her snapped.
The afterworld spilled out of her in a rush of vengeance, the darkness filling the space between them like angry storm clouds brewing. It hit Erickson full in the chest. His back arched, his arms were flung wide, and a jubilant chuckle as his wounds began to stitch shut. “I will be unstoppable.”
Only when she was sure the dark particles had infected every cell in his body did she pull back with all her might. The golden strands of his life force were frayed and decayed, stolen from others and cobbled together like gossamer cobwebs.
Erickson staggered, his arms dropping heavily to his sides, and he blinked at her in confusion. He stumbled toward her like a drunk, tripping over his own feet, and he glared at her. “Stop it!”
Annora no longer felt any pain.
No worry.
No fear or anger.
Only one thought consumed her—vengeance.
Power thrummed through her as she gathered his life force. It fought her, not wanting to leave its host, but she ruthlessly, remorselessly yanked it away. It began to gather in her hand like a ball of frayed yarn, slowly growing bigger and brighter.
Though her body was healed, the sheer amount of power she used left her raw and empty. The blood covering her body felt tacky as it dried, the stench of his fear feeding her pleasure, and she smiled maliciously at him. “How does it feel to be fed upon like some fucking parasite the way you did to so many?”
A growl rumbled from his wolf, only to turn into a whimper, and still she didn’t stop. The afterworld gathered above them, brewing like a tornado gathering force. Wind tugged at the world around them, debris pelting those who dared get too close, but none of it touched her. She’d almost swear she saw the spirits of all the dead Erickson had consumed waiting for him.
“Stop!” It wasn’t a plea, but a demand—a weak compulsion. Erickson lunged for her, barely able to stay on his feet, the desire to crush her burning in his eyes.
Annora danced out of his reach, cocking her head to study him, no longer seeing him as anything other than prey. He ceased being human after his first kill, and she taunted him like he’d taunted so many of his victims. “How many times have you heard that over the years and laughed while you slaughtered your own people?”
The fighting around them had come to a complete halt. The guys were gathered around Logan. The rest of the people kept their distance, and she wasn’t sure if that was because they believed he deserved death or because they feared her.
The thought of her guys no longer wanting anything to do with her nearly ripped her guts out, but the darkness crushed it. She gave herself over to the afterworld completely, using it like a shield nothing could penetrate. It welcomed her home, the cool air making their breath fog, but she embraced the numbness, the afterworld taking away all emotions but the need to maim and kill the creature before her.
The necklace she wore burned, nagging at her, refusing to let her surrender completely. It kept her grounded in this world when all she wanted to do was burn it down. It refused to let her forget her pain, refused to let her forget the men she loved so much.
It shackled her to the land of the living, and she reached up and grabbed the chain to rip it away. Only the instant her hand came into contact with the metal, she heard the guys yelling her name. Every wonderful, wretched emotion she felt for them came flooding back, the avalanche of feelings threating to overwhelm her, and her hand jerked away like she’d been scorched.
Not wanting to deal with her grief and loss for fear that she would be crushed under the weight, she did the one thing she’d promised to do from the start—save the men, no matter the cost.
As the last of his life force left Erickson, his flesh began to shrivel. Skin slowly sagged against his bones like he was a deflating pool toy, leaving him a ghost of himself. His wolf snarled at her, then the yellow gleam in his eyes flickered to brown like a light had been doused.
“No!” The roar ended in a scream as the shadow of a mangy, feral wolf slipped out of his human form, slinking low along the ground. It managed only a few feet before it staggered and dropped to its side and began to flake away and scatter like ash.
The pathetic thing that remained of Erickson was barely human.
Then the ball of light in her hand sputtered, and she wat
ched the cord between her and Erickson finally snap. He dropped to his hands and knees, clawing his way toward her with a breathy wail of rage and denial.
The sphere of threads she’d gathered from Erickson pulsed like a heartbeat. The power felt like it was the opposite of hers—full of light and life instead of darkness and death. The longer she held it, the more it burned her skin. She could see the strands slowly wrapping around her hand, trying to graft themselves to her, and she shuddered at the thought of having anything that belonged to Erickson anywhere near her.
The pain in her hand began to feel like she’d stuck her arm in a shark’s mouth, teeth ripping and sawing into her flesh. She had two choices…toss it into the afterworld to be consumed, or…give it back to those he took it from.
Annora pitched the glowing ball up into the swirling cloud mass raging overhead. Lightning cracked as it exploded across the sky, and she watched the golden sparks of light glitter in the darkness like a light show at Christmas. Then the glitter began to rain down like tiny fairy lights, healing everything they touched.
Once spent, the tiny sparks winked out of existence, leaving behind ash floating in the air like snow.
A clump of the golden liquid stitched together like a web over Logan. Power soaked into him, and her heart froze like a lump of ice until she saw his chest rise and fall. The tightness in her throat made swallowing impossible, and she bit her lip to hold back the sob caught in her throat.
In every direction, the darkness retreated, and her sanity returned…along with the magnitude of what she’d done.
She’d killed Erickson.
She didn’t regret it, but she would undoubtedly be punished for daring to slay an alpha. However it turned out, though, she took fierce satisfaction in knowing Erickson’s final act was to give back to those from whom he stole so much.
Annora slowly made her way over to where Sadie lay. The witches and shifters watched her in awe, their attention feeling like spiders were crawling all over her skin. Though Sadie was struggling to heal, the darkness trying to stitch her flesh together, it only dissolved before it could finish, her injuries too severe.
Shackled to the World: A Phantom Touched Novel Page 23