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.

With a twist of my body I'd never be able to replicate again, I manage to wrench my arm free of the vampire's grasp. Moving with the momentum, I throw myself into an awkward roll. My shoulder hits the ground hard, but I manage

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

both hands, I drive my

the blade. Grimoire's command

and into the blade. The effect is instantaneous. The vampire's body stiffens, then begins to glow from within. He tears away from me with an unholy shriek that

leaving me staggering as he frees himself. The

materialize around 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

I can even think to run, the

thinking, feeling claws whistle past my ear. Get your hand

vampire-thing lunges for me and I slam my hand against its face, feeling its

back with another

left hand, infuse it with ice.

willing it to frost over. There's no thinking left in my magic. It just

filled with an otherworldly calm. Maybe it's Grimoire's presence inside my head. Maybe he's taken control of

The blade leaves a trail of frost

Now for his head.

moves with a will of its own, the blade singing through the air before Grimoire's words fully register. The strange vampire thing's head separates

settles into a more recognizable shape—just another vampire, no longer the monstrous entity it

chest heaves, each breath ragged and harsh. Blood and acrid, flesh-burned smoke fills my nostrils, making

standing still. The chaotic battlefield has frozen in

floor. And yet

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