Ornamental trees and sculpted hedges blurred past as security converged from every direction. A wolf the color of midnight launched from behind a marble statue, jaws snapping for Dominic’s throat. He caught it midair by a fistful of scruff and drove it into the ground hard enough to crater the sod.
To his left, Kennedy slammed shoulder-first into a sleek panther, the impact sending both predators skidding through the grass. Saint flanked his other side, clearing a path, hamstringing a lunging beast before it could reach Dominic’s back.
More guards poured out from service paths and side doors—some still human, some already half-shifted, faces lengthening, hands tipped with claws.
Boone slammed one into the side of the mansion hard enough to make the foundation tremble. Chapel took another, dragging him down in a tangle of fur and limbs.
Dominic didn’t slow down to watch the end of it.
Ahead, the hedges thickened and the path narrowed, funneling foot traffic toward the back of the property. Nearing the corner, where the walkway transitioned into manicured gardens, he felt it—the vibration in the air that had nothing to do with the battle that raged around him.
The second ward hit him like a battering ram.
It shimmered as he bounced off it, a taut shield woven into the hedgerows and buried under the flagstones. It wasn’t the sloppy perimeter spell at the gates. This was deliberate, reinforced, and fed from multiple anchors.
Before he could even form a plan of attack, Saint materialized beside him, skin slicked with sweat and limbs shaking with effort. They looked at each other, a lifetime of understanding passing between them, and nodded.
Rather than attack the barrier directly, they punched their magic into the ground like spears. The earth answered with a shudder, the ward-line warping as if something had taken a bite out of it.
Together, they tore through the enchantments with brute force, ripping open a narrow corridor barely wide enough for their team to pour through.
Diving through after them, Dominic hit the ground hard and rolled, Saint crashing through beside him, right as the shield snapped closed at their heels and resealed itself.
He gained his feet first and reached for his brother, but there was no time to celebrate their victory.
Gasps and screams punctuated their arrival, guests scurrying for cover while guards formed protective circles around them.They weren’t a threat, though, so Dominic spared them barely more than a passing glance as he charged through the gardens.
White satin, champagne, diamonds. Warm air perfumed with expensive cologne and crushed flowers. A neat row of young Otherlings dressed in scraps and glitter, lined up like merchandise beneath bright display lights.
He spotted Sammy instantly.
Platinum hair cut too short. Dark-lined eyes with golden shimmer. Leather and sheer fabric that screamedlook at meeven as he sat too still, shoulders rigid, trying to be brave for the trembling boy beside him.
And wrapped around the stage itself, separate from the other wards, he felt the third barrier—dense, ancient, and vicious. The kind of magic that didn’t just keep people out. It punished them for trying to enter.
Dominic’s vision narrowed until there was only the dais and the space between them. He reached for his magic to jump—and the stage ward sank its teeth into him. Pain flashed hot behind his eyes, a warning wrapped in razor wire.
If the garden ward had been a locked door, this one was a guillotine.
Fine.
He lifted his hand toward the invisible barrier that ringed the stage and poured power into it until the air screamed. The ward-line bowed, shuddered, and flared brighter, throwing harsh light across the crowd as guests recoiled in panic.
Dominic heard Saint’s distant roar from his left, while Chapel’s laughter turned sharp and vicious at his back.
At the podium, the auctioneer lifted a polished gavel, smiling as if this were theater rather than carnage. He was too calm, too poised, too confident that the wards would protect him.
Dominic shoved harder, power screaming in his veins.
“Sammy!”
Across the stage, his mate’s head snapped up, eyes locking on Dominic for one perfect heartbeat, recognition flaring like a match in the dark.
The gavel came down with a crack that seemed to split the night.
Sammy flinched, his mouth falling open, and his body jerked as if yanked by an invisible chain. For a fraction of a second, he hung there, fingers clawing at empty air.
Then he was gone.