The Alpha and the Rental Luna
And for one, terrifying moment, time seems to stand still until it stops, only to rush forward as if making up for the missing moments in a rush of movement and terror.
Shards of the door fly in every direction as the space is rushed by a team of wolves and witches working in concert. At the lead is my mate, Sylvester, his fists still glowing with the same blue light as a moment before. By his side is Araminta and another elder witch I do not recognize. They immediately file in to the sides of him, their eyes bright, their bodies aglow, holding a wand-like focus aloft, as if waiting for a battle.
Chancy was right about one thing–the cavalry had arrived. It just wasn’t his calvary.
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