Laurel began to chant a spell I didn’t recognize, and the others followed suit. Soon, their clasped hands started to glow, and magic began to swirl around the circle between us.
Don’t forget to leave me out of the spell,Wolfie half-teased. Twice bound is enough.
I’ve got you, I told her, then steeled my nerve and closed my eyes. Showtime.
The magic whirling around the circle poured through me, and I felt my body burn with power. Not a single power, like the Moon’s had been, but many—the signatures of seven others. Individual tastes, scents, and sounds merged into a maddening cacophony that threatened to overwhelm my senses.
Focus,Wolfie said. You’re a wolf—you can manage sensory overload.
With a deep breath, I pulled in more of their magic until it felt like my body would dissolve into pure light.
I had this.
I knew the spell. I hadn’t merely cast it—I’d lived it for decades. Once my aunt had taught me the words, I realized that they’d been wrapped around me my whole life.
Those words had been my life.
I began to speak them, enchanting them with the precision of my father’s runes and of Laurel’s spellcraft. The magic reverberated through my body and into the ground we stood upon.
Suddenly, a scream broke my concentration—a voice I knew well. Casey.
I whipped my head around, and horror flowed through me. One of the savage hybrids had my cousin pinned down, his arm in its jaws. Blood poured from his mouth.
The words seized in my throat.
A bodyguard threw up her hands. Light flashed, and a bolt of electricity shot forth. The werewolf and Casey flew apart, but hybrids attacked them both before he could recover.
“Complete the spell, Savannah!” my aunt shouted. “They’re getting overrun! It’s their only chance!”
I tore my eyes from my cousin and hardened my heart. I had to stop this. I hurled my head back and threw my voice toward the heavens.
But when I spoke the words, they didn’t come out in human speech, but as a mournful howl.
Thunder cracked, and energy ripped through me. All the air vanished from the center of the circle, and for a second, my voice had no sound.
Then an explosion of power rocketed outward.
I felt my life pour into this moment. The chains that had bound me would now bind others. The spell that had protected me from the Dark God’s control would now protect them.
The bright shockwave rolled through Dockside, ripping through the Dark God’s magic and burning away the mist.
I staggered forward, drained and dizzy, and dropped to my knees.
Or I would have, except strong hands grasped me and pulled me up. Jaxson held me against him as tears filmed my vision. “You did it, Savy.”
My body and magic were drained, and my soul felt ready to collapse into dust. But his touch meant that none of it mattered.
I wanted him to hold me forever, but I pushed back and took his hand. “Casey’s hurt.”
We rushed to my cousin’s side. There was blood everywhere, and he had huge gouges on his chest and arms. His eyes rolled toward me. “I don’t feel so good, cuz…”
“I told you to be careful!” Laurel sobbed.
Uncle Pete dropped down beside his son and pulled out a bright green flask with a shaking hand. “Hold on, Case, this is going to sting.”
Casey’s eyes went wide, and his pupils dilated in terror. “No! Not that, I choose dea—aaaaggghhh!” he screamed as Uncle Pete poured a smoking silver brew over his wounds. The flesh boiled and bubbled and slowly knit back together, and a reeking cloud of vapor billowed into the air, the thick scent of burning skin and hair.
I almost lost my cookies.
“Shit! It’s so bad!” Casey moaned as he rolled over. “Why can I taste it? It’s a fucking topical salve.”
My kneeling aunt buried her face against Casey’s arm, but after a moment, Uncle Pete pulled her back. “Give him a little space. He’ll heal.”
Casey looked up at me with a wild expression. “They fucking bit me! That’s how it spreads. I was in the spell, right? I’m not going get it, right? I don't wanna be a werewolf!”
Pete looked to Laurel, and her face darkened. “We don’t know how the magic works, but your father’s potion seems to be doing the trick.”
My uncle waved to one of the other bodyguards. “We need to get him inside and under observation.”
We helped Casey to his feet, and then his old girlfriend—the one who had caused the windstorm—got under his shoulder and led him back to the car.
“I’m a war hero now, you know…” he muttered hopefully.