Chapter Thirty-Five-Blaire

My mouth still hung opened when Luther collided with Alaric. The vibration of their bodies hitting each other shattered my eardrums.

I pressed my face into the tops of my knees, and braced for impact as the tree shuttered beneath me. Everything that happened over the last few nights circled in my head like a tornado.

This had become a complete cock-up. A complete and utter nightmare. Seeing Luther's face in Alaric's room made tears pool in my eyes. I thought Alaric would kill him, and make me watch.

At least now, he was free—sort of.

Besides the bloody battle unfolding in front of me, that is.

Luther slid beneath Alaric as he jumped up, his wings lifting him feet above the ground, and Luther turned around and kicked him in the back of his left knee. Alaric roared, a stream of fire blasted from his mouth, lighting the tree next to me on fire.

Where is Smoky the Bear when you need him?

The hellhounds barking—more like roaring—neared, and I clung to the trunk of the tree to keep from fal