Chapter 339 Ava: Defend the Pack

Aurum's golden figure streaks through the wolves defending us, in an unerring line straight for the closest vampire.

Seconds later, there's a blood-curdling roar.

Stop standing around staring, Grimoire says, unaffected by the fear crawling through my skin. They need your help.

Tearing my eyes from Aurum/Lucas, I dash forward, my magic-crafted blade cool against my sweaty palm.

"What's next?" I ask, squeezing through a mass of fur and hot bodies. The noise is too loud to hear my own voice, but Grimoire picks up my words straight from my head.

Get closer. You'll hurt an innocent if you try to do anything here. You don't have the control yet.

Ducking under a wildly swinging arm, I come face to face with a stranger. Pale skin. Lips glistening red, cracking at the corners, where you can see pale flesh peeking out beneath the blood.

Fangs. Long fangs, far longer than I ever thought a vampire could have, and red eyes that lock onto mine with unerring accuracy.

Don't go straight for the head, Grimoire warns as I do just that.

My blade whistles through the air. It's a clumsy strike, born of fear and adrenaline rather than skill, and I'm too far in to abort.

A vice-like grip closes around my forearm. The vampire's strength is inhuman, and I'm yanked forward, losing my balance.

I'd never be able to replicate again, I manage to wrench my arm free of

get to me, but he's too slow, dragged in various directions. Everyone's grabbing, snapping, clawing at him,

drive my blade into

to the blade. Grimoire's command rings clear

heat through my arms and into the blade. The effect is instantaneous. The vampire's

through his flesh and bones, leaving me staggering as he frees himself. The wolves in front of him dart back, likely afraid

the vampire's form. They writhe and pulse, shot through with flashes of crimson lightning. It's as if the very fabric of reality is tearing apart around

even think to run, the creature turns lunges

my panic. I obey without thinking, feeling claws whistle past my ear. Get your hand on him. Any part of

lunges for me and I slam my hand against its face, feeling its fangs cut at my palm. A spurt of

back with another

to your left hand, infuse it with

blade to my left hand, willing it to frost over. There's no thinking left in my magic. It just does what I want, as if the magic

an otherworldly calm. Maybe it's Grimoire's presence inside my head. Maybe he's taken control of my body. It doesn't really feel like me, and yet it's

attack and slash across its torso. The blade leaves a trail of frost in its wake, slowing the monster's

Now for his head.

the air before Grimoire's words fully register. The strange vampire thing's head separates from its shoulders with a sickening squelch,

settles into a more recognizable shape—just another vampire, no

nostrils, making me want to gag. But as I glance around, confusion replaces

chaotic battlefield has frozen in an

bodies litter the floor. And yet

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