His Forsaken Luna-Chapter 151: Deyanira (3)

{SSTP - Suggested song to play: Savage Daughter by Ekaterina Shelehova }

My heartbeat thumped loudly, growing more intense as we stared at each other. My body is tense, assessing the witch no longer wounded. Deyanira was relaxed and nonchalant as her eyes gleamed back at me. Her lips curled in a satisfied smirk. I could feel the raw energy swirling around her fingertips, dark tendrils of magick coiling and slithering like living shadows emerging from faintly shimmering runes etched upon her hands.

From what little I knew about witches and Cohnal’s brief explanation, they needed to chant out their spells to cast their magick. Yet, I’d seen Deyanira able to flick her finger and send my mate and me flying. Perhaps that was something simple compared to trying to heal a fatal wound.

She’d chanted to heal the wound, and although it took as little as ten seconds, I could use that to my advantage. It wasn’t much, but if I kept attacking-

A tendril of darkness lashed out like a whip, slamming into my ribs with enough force to send me skidding back. Pain flared through me, sharp and white-hot, but I clenched my jaw, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a scream. My body burned where the magick had touched me, as though it had left behind an icy brand sinking deep beneath my skin.

"You? The one to take me down?" Deyanira laughed, the sound echoing around me, bouncing off the trees. She flicked her hair over her shoulder dramatically. "You’re weak."

I wiped the blood from my lips, tasting iron on my tongue. Anger surged through my veins, mingling with the pain, fueling me. I did not care she called me weak. I cared for all the pain and suffering she had caused my family, my ancestors and countless innocents.

Deyanira might have had cause to fight my ancestor for the loss of her kind. But what she did to my parents, to Alaric and myself— it was unforgivable.

A growl tore from my throat as I let the shift take over. My bones cracked and realigned, my muscles stretching and reforming as golden-white fur erupted along my skin. The pain was familiar, welcome even, as my body morphed into my other self. In seconds, my wolf stood where I had been, her hackles raised, claws digging into the earth.

Deyanira’s smirk faltered.

I lunged.

My teeth snapped just shy of her arm as she twisted away, her magick surging in response. But I was faster now. I ducked under her next strike, my claws slashing across her side. A sharp cry escaped her lips as I felt flesh tear beneath my attack. Blood, dark and thick, seeped through the fabric of her dress.

She staggered back, eyes narrowing in fury.

"You—" she hissed, but I didn’t give her the chance to finish. I attacked again, snapping at her thigh, feeling my canines sink into her flesh. She screamed, her body jerking as I bit down harder before releasing her. Deyanira stumbled, her breaths coming faster now, her hands trembling as she attempted to weave another spell.

I could see the effort it took. The blood dripping from her wounds slowed her healing, and I knew why—she needed time to chant, to focus her dark magick enough to seal the gashes. I just needed to keep attacking.

I lunged for her again, expecting her chant to be one of healing. It was a mistake. A force crashed into me as dark tendrils wrapped around my body like a vice. I was ripped off my paws and flung through the air, my wolf twisting helplessly before I slammed into the hard ground. My skull cracked against the unforgiving earth, and an explosion of pain tore through my head. My vision blurred, my ears rang.

I could feel myself slipping, my body weakening. My wolf slipped into unconsciousness.The shift reversed itself, bones breaking and reforming until I lay there in my human form, struggling to stay conscious. The world tilted. My breath came in short, ragged gasps.

Deyanira loomed over me now, her smirk returning despite the wounds I had inflicted. She lifted a hand, magick swirling at her fingertips once more.

"Death has yet to take me it seems. You are not the one to kill me, Idalia. You fought well," she mused. "But not well enough."

I braced myself, knowing I wouldn’t be able to move in time.

But then—a snarl.

Deep, guttural, and laced with rage rumbled along the ground. My bond flared to life, pulsing with adrenaline and life. Its warmth made me shiver.

A blur of black fur shot through the trees, moving so fast that Deyanira barely had time to react. Eryx. His massive wolf form collided with her, sending them both crashing to the ground. His canines found her throat tearing into flesh, a spray of blood scenting the air. Deyanira shrieked, her body jerking under him as he dragged her down, his teeth sinking deeper.

For a moment, I thought he had her. I thought it was over. But then—

A sound that shattered me from the inside out.

A yelp. Not just any yelp. A heartbreaking, agonized cry.

My heart stopped.

Eryx’s body convulsed, and I watched in horror as his limbs seized. His bones cracked unnaturally, his massive form dropping to the ground as if something had broken him from the inside. He whimpered once, then went still.

"No." The word escaped me in a breathless whisper, my body frozen with terror. The sight of him lying there, unmoving, broke something in me.

Roaring wind filled my mind, my sight flickering, my heart squeezing, ripping in two.

The back of my head throbbed again. It wasn’t from my head wound.

Power surged through my veins, burning along my skin, the feeling wild and untamed.

The wind howled around us, whipping through the trees, tearing through the clearing like a living thing.

The sky darkened, storm clouds rolling in with unnatural speed. The air became thick and charged with something beyond either of us. Lightning crackled overhead, forking dangerously close, illuminating the area in violent bursts of white light.

The taste of magick coated my tongue. Not Deyanira’s dark magick—this was different. This was mine.

My body rose on the wind, making me levitate before Deyanira. Her eyes were wide, lips moving rapidly, chanting as she pointed towards me. My gaze fell back on my mate, unmoving.

A scream tore from deep inside myself, my agony reaching the skies, and the heavens answered.

A bolt of lightning struck down, arcing through the sky like a spear of divine wrath. The lightning hit Deyanira with a deafening crack, the pure white light exploding on impact. The force sent her flying backwards, crashing into the dirt in a smoking, twitching heap.

The storm roared above us, responding to the tempest inside me, my fury manifesting in the very elements themselves. I gasped, my chest heaving, my fingers trembling with residual energy. My body pulsed with the aftershock of the magick I had called upon, my senses overwhelmed by its sheer magnitude.

Silence fell over the clearing.

Only the sound of the wind remained, whispering through the trees like a distant echo of my rage. The scent of burnt skin and hair wisped over to me, smoke rising from Deyanira.

I felt empty staring at the witch. Then, a weak, pained whimper kickstarted me into action. Eryx. My head snapped in his direction.

A heartbeat. I could hear his heartbeat.

I turned, my heart lurching, and stumbled toward him. My legs nearly gave out, but I forced myself forward, collapsing beside his massive form. His breathing was shallow, his black fur matted with dirt and blood. My hands trembled as I reached for him, pressing against his side, desperate to feel the warmth of him, to reassure myself he was still alive.

"I’m here," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I’m here, Eryx."

His green eyes flickered open, just barely, and for a moment, all I could see in them was pain.

But he was alive.

I clung to that. I clung to him.

And as the storm raged above us, I swore that no one—no force of darkness, no god or mortal—would ever take him from me. With those thoughts swarming between us, I used the last of my energy, of my wolf, to pour my soul into his before I fell into the warmth of his embrace.