Davina (Davy Harwood #3)

It wasn’t her.

And now, as he led his army into the forest with his sword ready in his hand, The Immortal was swirling around inside of himself. He wasn’t sure if it was even him in there, or just her. He felt under her control, but there was a small tunnel. He felt Davy before. She was still in The Immortal. If he could get to her, if there was a way of breaking her free, he had to take it, but for now—they crested the last hill and below them, they could hear the screams.

The Immortal had already arrived.

It was chaos. Hundreds of Benshire wolves were dead on the ground. The image was almost as bad as the battleground they just left, but there was an army missing. Roane searched the woods. The Romah vampires were there. It wasn’t just the Benshire line. Jacith had brought his oldest and most powerful vampire family.

“No!”

Christian and Pippa stood next to him, but the rest of the Christane wolves streamed around them. They began to attack the rest that still lived, but before the first could lunge in the air, a bloodcurdling scream went through the air. It went through everyone, sending chills down their spines.

At the top of the next ridge stood The Immortal and The Mother Wolf. One in her white dress and the other in her blue robe.

A deep roar ripped from Christian. “No. She’s mine to kill.” He surged forward. “NO!”

Davy looked over at them. He hated to call her that, but he loathed to keep referring to her as The Immortal. It was a grand title that she didn’t deserve. She wasn’t grand. She wasn’t anything except a monster, who took the real Davy away.

She was holding The Mother Wolf up with one hand at her throat. Genuine confusion flashed over her features as she looked from Christian to the woman in her grip. She held her up higher. “You wish to kill this one?”

Pippa started crying. Lucas heard her sniffling from the other side of her brother. He closed his eyes—this stranger who had Davy’s body was so cold.

Anger was mounting in Christian and he nodded, stiffly. “Yes.” His tone softened, but only a little bit. He was holding back the rage.

The Immortal—Roane couldn’t call her Davy. It was too painful to think of her name—met his gaze. She was weighing her options. Her head tilted to the side and her long dark hair swept over her face from the wind. She was impervious to the weather. It was normally hot and humid where they were in Central America, but a cold front moved into the air. The temperature dipped low. The werewolves and vampires, who were impervious to weather as well, were starting to shiver. And through it all, The Immortal was immune to all of it, even the blood that seeped around her bare feet.

He looked around—so many bodies, so much death. The river would run red from the blood that night, but this was what they all signed up for.

War. Death. Carnage.

The Immortal still hadn’t decided what to do with The Mother Wolf. She turned back and brought the older woman closer to her. She was studying her like she was a new creature for her to understand.

“No.” Roane started forward.

Recognizing his voice, The Immortal looked again. More confusion crossed her face, but she didn’t say anything. She held her comment and waited.

“What are you doing?” Christian reached for Roane.

“I’m going over there.”

“No, Lucas.”

“Don’t. Please.”

The last was a whimper from Pippa, Davy’s friend. Roane’s stomach clenched, but he moved out of Christian’s reach. Lowering his voice, he said, “I’m going to her. Someone has to try to contain her.”

“Contain that?” Christian’s statement was a whip, lashing at him.

“Yes.” She was too powerful to allow on her own, and he had no idea if he could control her. He could try, at least. He had to try. “None of ours can get hurt.”

“One of ours already did.” Pippa was glaring at Davy’s body. Her own growl began to build in the back of her throat.

Roane started forward again, but he said as a goodbye, “I’ll ask her to leave The Mother Wolf for you, but return home after that.”

“Lucas—”

“I mean it!” He glared at them before turning away once again. “Leave. Go home.” “Go and be alive . . .” he thought before crossing the distance until the next ridge.

The Immortal was waiting. She had heard his thought and she asked now, in his head still, “Is that what you think will happen? You will die.”

He faltered just beneath the hill she stood upon. He held her gaze, never wavering. “Either my body will die or my soul will. Either way, all is lost.”

“Nothing is lost. It’s just a new life. That is all.”

Everything was lost, but he held back those words. She heard them, a darkness flashing in her eyes, but both let it go. He gestured to The Mother Wolf. “My friend has come this entire way to kill her.”

He remembered the stories spoken about The Mother Wolf.