Zetta grinned. “Silenced for once. It’s a miracle!” Her eyes shone with triumph. “This is your moment. Choose the House of Silver. Talk to your great-grandmother; don’t be rude now.”
I carefully raised my gaze to the statue’s pitiless glare. Her lips curled.
I turned my back on her, listening to her howl of outrage. Coolly, I replied, “I don’t talk to psycho war criminal dicks. I choose my pack.”
Boy, that was satisfying.
Zetta gasped, before she flew around me at a dizzying speed. “Remember the options? I choose…to kill your pack.”
Okay, maybe not satisfying enough to be worth dying for.
Suddenly, the walls and ceiling began to melt. Silver dripped like glimmering waterfalls. My Charms wailed and writhed in their chains, as droplets fell onto their shoulders, before trailing like tear tracks down their chests.
“Son of a bitch…” I snarled.
“Mum of one, actually,” Zetta snickered. “This is your choice. I blame the Land of the Free and the non-magicals’ obsession with equality, I truly do. A Wolf Charmer who won’t control wolves is as ridiculous as your belief that these hot Charms won’t kill.” I clung onto Moon, working my shadows into the mechanism of the shackles, whilst he whined in pain. Zetta chuckled. “They’re all Jokers plotting to watch you burn, but you’re too soft to let me burn them for you.”
A drop of silver sizzled onto Emperor’s throat, and he groaned. When I glanced over, he shook his head. My Alpha prince would never allow me to help him before the wolves that he’d sworn to protect.
“Amadeus first,” Moon gasped.
“Keep quiet you,” Amadeus whimpered, whilst silver licked down his wrists. “I can’t spoil your track record of being the rescued one.”
I couldn’t help the smile. It looked like these Omegas and Betas protected each other the same as any Alpha.
“Hey, I’m rescuing all of you,” I panted, wrapping my arms around Moon so that my shadows could work even more closely against the magical restraints.
My Charms’ agony wracked through me as well, connecting us together. I could feel Moon’s heart thudding in his chest; the quivering of his muscles against the strain, and his magic that coiled through me.
At last, the shackles opened with a click, and Moon collapsed into my arms. His head rested on my shoulder just for a moment, and I ran my hand through his curls, wishing that I could allow him to nuzzle there and know that unlike the wolves in the vision, he wasn’t drowned in the river or a kneeling Omega at the mercy of my great-grandmother.
Instead, I turned to Amadeus, thrusting my crimson into his restraints with even more force, whilst Moon wrapped himself around Amadeus’ waist in comfort. The silver had seared Amadeus’ shoulders, and he trembled at each new drop from the roof. When the shackles snapped open, Amadeus was caught by Moon and me.
I wrapped them both in my arms, floating on the joy of their touch and safety. Twisting to Emperor, who was struggling not to cry out but jerking at each burn, I threw my shadows with even greater strength at his chains, whilst my other Charms clutched him.
Zetta swaggered behind Emperor. Her eyes gleamed dangerously. “So close and yet…” She pointed up at the dripping ceiling, which frothed and foamed into a seething sea. “What happens when the tide comes in? Oh yes, it washes away the wicked wolves.”
When she smiled, I knew that she meant to crash down the waves onto my Charms and drown them in silver.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Trapped beneath the silver sea of the ceiling in the Discipline Cellar, I stared wildly, as it bulged above Zetta’s head, then birthed a gilded angel whose wings beat with furious magic.
Holy hell, it was Mischief in truly godly form who hovered above Zetta. I realized that I’d never seen him acting the archduke before and sparking with righteous rage.
It was scorching-hot.
Yet why had he held back when we’d been fighting? And how much was it costing him to rescue us now? Unless, you know, he had more of a plan than to fright Zetta into letting us go?
My crimson wrenched at the shackles around Emperor, battling against the dark magic that bound him and hissing at its sting. Emperor twisted in his chains to dodge the dripping silver, whilst Amadeus and Moon snatched up paddles to hold over his shoulders and protect him.
Yep, I didn’t miss the irony of their using the items that had once hurt wolves to protect a wolf prince.
Mischief landed in front of Zetta, whilst his wings remained outstretched and crackling. He spun disks between his hands, and I knew what it was like to have those hurled at me.
I’d expected Zetta to transform her loser ass into Dracula or Einstein, before pouting whether she still looked fabulous.
Instead, she recoiled, clutching her throat in a gesture that was so my mom in panic mode — like when I’d been a kid and I’d slipped on a branch in the ancient oak and almost fallen, or when I’d dropped an entire bottle of paint down my party dress — that my breath caught.
She wasn’t mom. But she sure as witching hell looked like her.
My shadows gave a final yank, and the shackles around Emperor came free. Emperor groaned and dropped forwards, but Moon caught him. I hadn’t seen Moon offer Emperor help before and I thought that Emperor would reject it by the way that he squirmed.
“Let me support your daft behind for once.” Moon’s smile was soft.
Emperor nodded, leaning into Moon’s hold.
Amadeus’ hand clasped mine. I wished that I could feel his skin, which was trapped beneath his gloves.
“You shouldn’t be here.” Zetta pointed a shaky finger at Mischief. “You, my glittery little god, should be dead.”
Mischief’s eyes flashed. “Why, I make an astoundingly sprightly zombie, do I not?” He twisted, flinging his disks at the statue of my great-grandmother.
Zetta screeched, stomping her feet, as the statue split down its middle with a deafening — crack.
Hey, so that’s how legends were cut down to size or in this case, shattered to pieces, which were now bleeding.
Okay, yuck.
Zetta howled, “On the House of Silver and crimson tide, you’ll die for that.”
Mischief turned back to Zetta, prowling towards her. “Threats, why how original. Pray, did you think that it’d be easy to kill a god? I rather think you did.” He raised an imperious eyebrow, studying Zetta like she was an interesting specimen. Then he moved so close that their noses would’ve been touching if Zetta hadn’t been ghostly; his gaze darkened. “Senseless creature, did you not perceive that if you drain me of my magic, then it’s stored within you, and I may drain it back?”
Zetta wailed, but before she could escape, Mischief thrust his hands into her guts. To my shock, she flickered like he was seriously touching her and holding her in place.
Amadeus’ fingers tightened in mine. Mischief’s magic wound around Zetta, dragging his own power out of her. It burst like an imploding star out of her body, dragging her onto tiptoes, as she screamed.
Mischief’s face lit up in glory and triumph; his magic flooded back to him, wrenched free from its false vessel.
I laughed, flooded with joy that Mischief was safe from fading…dying…and that he’d been released from the prison of this house and Zetta.
I’d thought Mischief the prettiest man that I’d ever seen, when I’d first been attacked by him in this cellar a week ago. But now he had his magic back, he was more gorgeous than any guy had a right to be.
But then, he was an angel, right?
Zetta’s pained gaze slipped to mine, and she raised her hand like I’d save her. I bit my tongue because this was the entity that would’ve killed my wolves and me. It was my past, Wolf Charmer legacy, and everything that I hated about the treatment of the wolves.
It wasn’t mom, and I wouldn’t be manipulated anymore.
My gaze hardened, and I nodded to Mischief.
Mischief’s graceful hands slid up through Zetta to her head, which burst w
ith a silver light. I squinted through the brightness.
Zetta screamed.
Then the House of Silver came tumbling down.
Dazed, I blinked my eyes open to darkness.
Then I coughed against the stone dust, scrabbling to free myself from the fallen masonry and roof beams. My head ached, and blood dribbled down my neck.
Frogs’ toes, Mischief taking back his magic had pulled down the entire House of Silver that had been my family’s home — the Wolf Charmer’s home — for over four hundred years.
Despite losing my family, inheritance, and home, I hadn’t felt this free since arriving back in England. Okay, apart from being trapped beneath the fallen rubble. Sometimes, it took destruction to create something new like in my art, go figure.
I wet my dry lips, before calling, “Hey, Charmer underground here.”
Had my guys been hurt when the house collapsed?
When my breath came in too fast pants and my panic mounted, I wrapped myself in my soothing shadows.
My guys were okay… They had to be okay…
A chink of sky winked encouragingly down at me through the gloom. I edged my fingers around the beam above my head, whilst my fingernails ripped, trying to wrench it aside. My red seethed at the confinement.
Suddenly, the beam was hauled away from above. I blinked against the light at the elegant hand that was being held out to me, before grasping it.
Then Ramiel was gently pulling me out of the rubble and swinging me into his arms. He wrapped his wings around me, and I gasped, as he tenderly held me. I breathed in his nutmeg scent and it meant safety…this, in the arms of an angel, was home.
“Are you hurt?” Ramiel asked, softly.
I shook my head.
“I believed that you wished no more stiff upper lip nonsense?” He licked up the trail of blood, which wound down my neck, delicately kissing over the graze.
I smiled. “Consider my lip limp.”
Snuggling around in his wings, I glanced over the destruction. The House of Silver was in ruins. The smashed chandelier rested on top of it, whilst beams poked out like broken ribs. My brow furrowed: why was it glittering? Then I realized that it was the ruby floor of the ballroom.
It should’ve hurt me. Weirdly, it didn’t. No matter how hard I’d tried, the House of Silver had never become my home again, only my pack’s prison.
Emperor cradled Amadeus who had a bump on his head that matched my own. Moon was digging through the remains, chucking wood and cracked paintings over his shoulder.
Okami shoved his nose out of my pocket, before sneezing on the dust and burrowing back down again.
But where was Mischief?
My stomach twisted, as my eyes widened. Mischief had saved us all from Zetta, and I couldn’t believe that the fates were cruel enough to allow him to die for it. Although, if those fates had been woven by Stella…
I struggled out of Ramiel’s arms, diving onto the ruins. “Mischief…”
My guys leapt onto the wreckage with me, tossing stones aside, as well as rich fabrics. I shuddered at the sight of the wardrobe from my parents’ bedroom cracked open to show its insides. My shadows washed across the craters, until it was reddened to an alien moon, trying to feel him out.
Where was he?
I bit back a sob. Mischief was a royal prick but he was my royal prick.
When the chandelier shook, I stumbled backwards, gashing my thigh on the fangs of a stone gargoyle. I hissed but never looked away from the chandelier.
Please, please, please…
Mischief burst out from the rubble, twirling into the evening sky with crackling wings, glorious and awe-inspiring. This was the dark splendor of Moon’s god.
Mischief’s magic erupted from him in a rainbow arc, whilst Moon’s exploded up to meet his in a firework cascade above our heads. They were joined in a display of power; werewolves could never be simply beasts when they were descended from angelic gods.
Maybe my whistle wasn’t honestly appropriate, but hey, Mischief made my heart pound. “Dude, that was freaking hot! Do you have a second for us mere mortals?”
Mischief sniffed, attempting to hide the way that the corners of his mouth twitched. His magic and Moon’s faded, leaving behind it a glimmering trail. Moon quivered, shocked and joyous. Then Mischief swooped down to land next to Ramiel, who swept his wingtip down Mischief’s cheek in greeting.
“At last you perceive my superior status, witch.” Mischief clasped his hands smartly behind his back.
“Don’t push it,” I muttered.
Suddenly, Moon’s eyes widened, and he dropped to his knees.
“Moth, moth, moth,” Moon whispered, wiping a grimy hand down his thigh in agitation. He stared out over the destruction. “Where’s my brother?”
My crimson whipped around in agitation, seeking Moth in the same way that it’d earlier sought Mischief.
“Whilst you were hanging around,” Mischief rolled his eyes, “Ramiel and I were saving your brother.” He waved airily towards the woods. “Oh, and stowing him a safe distance from the fight against his wishes. Feisty, isn’t he?”
When I peered at the woods, which were tinged with the first beams of the full moon, a small figure dashed towards us with bouncing blond curls and large eyes: Moth.
“Brother.” Moon caught Moth in his arms, spinning him around.
Moth clasped his hand to the back of Moon’s head like he was terrified that Moon would still drop dead from the injection if he let go. I didn’t figure on my guilt in the Wolf Tamer affair going away soon. If Moth was like a regular teenager, he’d have already milked it for Netflix on tap and no curfew.
Huh, I guess an Omega prince from the Training Center hadn’t ever watched Netflix and now didn’t even have a home for the whole curfew thing.
I still reckoned that he’d milk the whole pumping his brother with poison, but after what he must’ve suffered being on his own and not knowing whether his brother was alive or not, he was owed that.
Who needed discipline anyway?
Mischief nuzzled his cheek into Ramiel’s hand who purred. “Are we done with the mawkishness? That deplorable creature who was stealing my magic had hidden the cub in the attic like a damsel in a romance novel.”
Moth ripped out of his brother’s hold, baring his…adorable…fangs at Mischief.
Mischief sauntered to Moth, patting him on the head with a level of condescension that made me wince. “Does the cub wish to thank his god now?”
If Mischief hadn’t winked at me, I’d have thought he meant it.
“Chill out, Mini Moon. I can thank him for you.” I grinned wickedly at Mischief.
Mischief took a step backwards. “What do you…?”
I stumbled on my gashed leg, drawing in a hissed breath. At least that gargoyle had taken his revenge on the Wolf Charmer line. Although with the way that the wound was stinging like a witch, I was considering taking back my non-discipline policy on all wolves.
“Have you forgotten the supposed limpness of your lip already?” Ramiel dove to my side, catching me in his wings.
I squirmed. “If my leg doesn’t fall off, we’ll count it as a win.”
Ramiel’s eyes narrowed.
Nope, I didn’t like that look at all. I’d seen it just before Ramiel’s hand had got all smacky on Mischief’s ass.
Mischief snickered. “I advise allowing Ramiel to act out his mothering because he won’t be happy until he’s smothered you in love and attention. Sickening, isn’t it?”
I poked my tongue out at him. Yep, it wasn’t mature, but since I couldn’t hug Mischief with as much fierceness as Moth had his brother because he was alive and safe from that dick Zetta, which is what I suspected he wanted to do with me as well beneath the shovel load of snark, it was the next best thing for both of us.
Emperor chuckled, stretching out on the lawns with Amadeus like they were any other romantic couple preparing to stargaze. Moon embraced his brother, snuggling onto Emper
or’s other shoulder. Emperor raised his eyebrow, but then smiled like everything had finally settled back to how it should always have been.
“Come on, you love all the smothering, right?” I countered.
Mischief blushed. “Silence your tongue. And no more than you do.”
I grinned. “Well, duh.”
When Ramiel crouched in front of me, touching over the wound with nimble fingers, I couldn’t resist stroking through his soft hair. He peeked at me shyly through his bangs, and boy was it lucky that angels couldn’t read minds because with him kneeling in front of me like that, I shuddered with the memory of how Amadeus’ talented tongue had felt circling and licking between my thighs. When I flushed, so did Ramiel.
Wait, angels couldn’t read minds, right…?
Amadeus giggled. “You’re making our Charmer all hot and bothered. Either show her that an angel’s kiss can take her to heaven faster than an incubus’, or…” He tilted his head. “If it pleases you there isn’t an or…I love the sound of the first option too much.”
Ramiel almost fell over his own wing in his haste to stand up. “I only meant to tend to you. I wouldn’t ask more of my savior, when you’ve lost so much today.”
When I looked at him sharply, he averted his gaze. Why did he always see me so clearly? I didn’t doubt Mischief that Ramiel had been one of the cleverest angels.
My red slipped back inside me, coiling around me protectively.
Ramiel ripped off the bottom of his indigo harem pants, revealing his creamy calf in a move that was more sensuous for its care and innocence than Amadeus’ at his most sexy. Then he bent over to tie it around the cut on my leg, although he was careful not to kneel again, and I was torn about whether I missed it. Then Ramiel led me to the lawns, helping me to lie down next to Amadeus, whilst I grimaced in pain.
Before Mischief could make a run for it, Ramiel swooped on him, entrapping him in his wings.
“Sickening, is it?” Ramiel’s voice was hard.
Mischief pouted. “Why the cross face? Chocolate is sickening, and I’m quite the fan of that.”
“Then I surely won’t deprive you.” Ramiel’s eyes twinkled.
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