The air was a frantic symphony of gunfire, rotor wash, and the wet, guttural snarls of dying wolves. I ran away from the safety of Victor’s black-clad mercenaries, my boots skidding on the blood-slicked salt.
"Ella! Get back here!" Kael’s voice was a raw, human shout, stripped of its kingly echo but vibrating with a terrifying desperation.
I didn't turn back. Fifty yards away, Hakan and the remaining Lycan guards were being swarmed. Without their ability to shift, they were fighting with broken spears and bare fists against a pack that still held the Alpha’s blessing. Hakan was down on one knee, three wolves tearing at his leather armor.
"Hakan! Catch!" I screamed.
I didn't have a gun, but I had the flare gun I’d snatched from Julian. I didn't fire it at the wolves—I fired it at the fu
