Thomas and Alan were talking to him, but he tuned them out. He closed his eyes, listening to the the pounding of feet on rock, thumping along like a heartbeat. The Throcknell army, advancing.
He thought of Fiona, her slim body pressed against him in the woods. Her golden skin, wild hair, and bare legs. The look in her eyes when she’d first seen him. Gods, he’d give anything to see her one last time. His heart thrummed. He could feel himself glowing like an ember, and then a cold wind rippled over the earth, stoking his flame. His body crackled with light. Hot, molten power surged through him, enflaming his heart and limbs until his entire body blazed.
Heat ignited his nerves, cauterizing his wounds. The fire was excruciating and euphoric at the same time. He gasped, trying to catch his breath. Grasping for his pike, he stood between Thomas and Alan, who clapped him on the back. The rest of the army was nearly upon them.
Tobias swung his pike, and Emerazel’s inferno erupted through the metal, raining fire on the Throcknells’ front lines. Agonized screams filled the air, and to his horror, Tobias felt a shiver of pleasure, watching as they threw themselves to the ground, trying to douse the flames.
As the Throcknells burned, the werewolves rushed in. The deafening sound of clanging metal rang across the common. Tobias jumped into the fray with his sword, and within moments he was lost in a whirl of slashing and blocking, his sword finding its mark again and again. He was the flames of Haphaestus from the depths of Mount Etna. He was the blazing gases of the sun’s core, and his body roared with glorious heat.
“Tobias!” Alan screamed. “The Purgators are here!”
Tobias heard helicopter rotors beating overhead, and his vision began to clear. The blades beat louder, and white lights danced over the trees surrounding the common. Holy gods. They’re going to cover all of Dogtown in that dust. He sucked in a deep breath before bellowing, “Wolves! Run for the trees!”
A sword in her hand, Estelle caught Tobias’s eye. “Wolves! Retreat!”
A line of ten helicopters approached, each carrying some sort of tank. “We are ordering you to surrender,” an amplified voice droned. “Do not try to run from us. Do not try to fight us.”
Those in human form transformed, bolting for the trees, and Tobias followed, sprinting through the common. A confused swarm of Throcknell soldiers remained, at least half of them badly injured.
Over the south side of the common, something red and shimmery began to spray from the tanks below the helicopters. Agonized shrieks pierced the air. Throcknells and werewolves alike scattered, trying to escape the pain, and another helicopter dumped dust. Throcknell soldiers ran for the ocean, desperate to wash it off. A victory for chaos.
But something was happening to the helicopters. The winds blew harder and they began to fly erratically, swerving through the dark sky. As he stood by the edge of the forest, a cold breeze chilled Tobias’s skin. From the bottom of the hill, a silvery light glowed, the color of the moon. The wind grew stronger, blowing back his hair. Around him, the trees groaned.
He stared, open-mouthed, as the helicopters slammed into each other and burst into flame.
Fiona.
One by one, each aircraft crashed and the flaming wreckage plummeted to the common, leaving great chunks of blazing metal over the craggy slopes.
Tobias dropped his sword. She’d come for him. Blood roaring in his ears, he started into the common.
Estelle gripped his arm. “Why aren’t you bringing your weapon? There are still Throcknells out there.”
He turned to look at the Queen, her face fiercely beautiful. “Fiona’s here for me.”
He crossed the grass, drawn to her as if by a gravitational pull. A silvery fog hung over the common, and when he saw her perfect form stride through the glow, he caught himself flickering between awe and terror. Her dark hair curled over her shoulders, and her body seemed to hum with strength. Byron, her familiar, had returned, and circled above her head.
When she saw him, he thought he caught a brief moment of hesitation before she hurled herself through the air, fast as the winds of a hurricane. She slammed into him, knocking him to the ground, and he felt her hands wrap around his neck. In the next second, her teeth were at his throat.
52
Fiona
Her hands closed around his throat, and her eyes lingered on his skin. She’d never seen him this clearly before. Of course she’d seen the sharp cheekbones, the dark eyes slightly turned up at the sides, his beautiful mouth. But now she could see every pore of his tawny skin, and the fire that danced beneath. She wanted to see all of him.
For a moment, she had an impulse to sink her teeth into his throat. Nothing this beautiful could last forever.
But she wasn’t here to kill him. He was her fire in the darkness, and she needed him. She leaned down, kissing his neck, and he shuddered with pleasure.