"Griffin, that’s enough! We have to go now!" Irene barked at her son, urgency in her voice. But her voice might as well have been water rolling off oiled steel.

Since the moment they found out Roman Draven had been captured by Angus, Griffin had lost it completely.

Leon too.

"I’m going to get my son!" the South Alpha had roared earlier, charging toward one of Angus’s portals.

But Aeron had overpowered him, intercepting the move before it turned into suicide, and threw him straight into their own portal and out of the battlefield.

They had truly underestimated Angus and

now they were paying for it. They had no idea what kind of spell had been used, but the portals refused to close even after the witches responsible for opening them had been killed. The magic clung stubbornly to the air, like it was anchored from the other side.

And through those openings, they kept coming. Witches and Werewolves. Reinforcements pouring in without The hall had long since stopped being a battlefield, quickly turning into a graveyard. The only reason they were still standing at all was Griffin.

For the first time, Irene truly saw the extent of her son’s power.

He moved like a force of nature, tearing through enemies with brutal efficiency. Bodies flew, bones snapped, and blood sprayed as he ripped through them as easily as one would tear apart cloth. When witches tried to strike him with spells, all he had to do was slam his hand—or sometimes his entire body—into the ground.

The shockwave that followed disrupted everything, shattering their magics and throwing them off balance.

The attacks never reached him. It was terrifying, yes, and yet, it wasn’t enough because Griffin wasn’t invincible.

There were deep wounds carved into his body where the spells had struck true. His flesh was burned and blood ran freely. It was hard to tell how much was his from the way he was drenched head to toe, but Irene could smell it. Her son was bleeding.

"He’s lost to the bloodlust!" Aeron shouted over the chaos, his voice edged with concern.

Usually, when Griffin’s beast took over like this, there was a struggle, and he managed to fight his way back to the surface.

But not anymore.

What they didn’t know was that the bond had changed him. There was no longer a divide between man and beast. Griffin was the beast and the beast was furious.

Pulling him out of this state wasn’t just difficult, it was nearly impossible.

Angus’s witches had changed tactics. They were no longer killing the wolves outright, instead incapacitating them.

Except that didn’t make it any better because she knew the ways of war. Roman and the likes of them would be held hostage, and Angus would use them to bargain for whatever he wanted.

"Electricity!" Irene shouted suddenly, turning to Aeron. "That’s what Alaric used to snap him out of it before!"

Aeron’s gaze scanned the battlefield, calculating fast. "Then we need a witch, now."

Elijah’s mansion was barely holding together. Walls had collapsed, leaving jagged openings. The remaining structures were scorched black from spells. Sections of the roof were completely gone, torn apart by the intensity of the magic. Dust filled the air, thick and choking, making visibility almost impossible.

"What are you waiting for? Let’s go!" Irene snapped, cutting down anything that came at her without hesitation.

"Samantha!" Irene hollered when they found her. "We need a witch!"

"Can’t!" Samantha shot back, her voice strained, her entire body trembling with effort. "I’m the last one standing!"

"Fuck," Irene and Aeron said at the same time.

Only one portal remained. Most of their wolves were already gone, with the few left dragging the injured—and the dead—through it. But they wouldn’t hold much longer.

Micah stood between Samantha and the enemy, and he was devastating. No one knew where he had gotten the blade in his hand, but he wielded it like it was an extension of himself.

The magic that had held him down earlier was gone now. He flickered in and out of existence, impossible to track. One moment, a witch stood and the next, her head rolled across the floor. Then he was gone again. Striking. Vanishing. Reappearing. Cutting them down one after another.

"My magic is burning out!" Samantha cried, her voice breaking. "I can’t hold it much longer!"

Aeron turned to Irene, his expression set. "Micah will get Griffin. You need to go."

"What?" Irene snapped, spinning on him. "What about you?"

"I’ll be right behind you."

"No," she said immediately. "You’re not playing goddess martyr today."

Aeron smiled faintly. "Stubborn woman. But you don’t exactly have a choice."

Before she could react, he shoved her hard.

Irene stumbled straight into the portal, a curse already forming on her lips as she vanished through it.

"Hurry! I can’t hold it anymore!" Samantha screamed out the warning.

The last of the werewolves heard it, but their enemies wouldn’t let them go easily either. They tried to stop that, and Aeron saw that.

"Micah!" he roared. "Get my son out of here!"

For a brief second, Micah appeared, just long enough to nod, an unspoken agreement passing between them.

Then a growl rumbled from his throat as Aeron threw himself back into the battle, his claws tearing into the witches who held the rest of the wolves back.

"Go now!" Aeron barked, attacking ruthlessly and trying not to get distracted. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

"But—" one of the wolves hesitated.

"Get out!" Aeron snarled, his eyes flashing.

That was enough. The wolf grabbed his injured companion and bolted through the portal.

"Quick!" Samantha gasped, her voice barely holding.

As soon as the last wolf passed through,

she let go and the portal snapped shut.

Samantha turned to stare at the lifeless bodies of Liv and Hazel, and tears sprang to her eyes.

"Rest well, sisters," she said in prayer right before everything went dark.

Across the battlefield, Aeron saw Micah catch her before she hit the ground and vanished.

Relief barely had time to settle before a spell struck him square in the chest. Pain exploded through his body as darkness swallowed his vision. And then, nothing.