The battlefield was already breaking when they arrived. Not just the wraiths this time—something else moved behind them, slower, deliberate, controlled. Witches. I saw them through the chaos, their robes dark, their movements precise, their eyes fixed on one thing. Me.
"They're here for her," someone shouted.
"I know," Cyris replied, his voice sharp with control, but I felt the shift in him through the bond—focused, dangerous, ready.
The witches didn't rush. They stepped forward together, forming a circle at the edge of the fight. One by one, they raised their hands, blades appearing from within their sleeves. Without hesitation, they cut into their palms.
Blood spilled.
Dark.
Thick.
And then—
They spoke.
The air twisted instantly, the ground beneath us reacting as their voices overlapped, chanting in a language that didn't belong to this world. Their blood hit the earth, and the moment it did, their bodies began to change.
Drying.
Withering.
Like something was draining the life out of them in exchange for power.
"What are they doing?" I whispered.
Cyris didn't answer immediately.
Because he already knew.
"Illusion binding," he said coldly. "Don't look at them."
Too late.
The moment the spell settled, everything shifted.
The battlefield distorted.
Wolves froze mid-attack, their bodies going still as if time had stopped around them. Guardians staggered, their energy collapsing as their eyes lost focus. One by one, they dropped—not dead, but trapped.
"Cyris…" I said, panic rising.
"They're not dead," he replied quickly. "They're caught in it."
The witches' bodies continued to dry, their skin tightening unnaturally as their power expanded, holding the entire battlefield under their control.
But not him.
Cyris stood unmoving, untouched.
His presence alone seemed to push against the spell, rejecting it.
Rynn's voice cut through suddenly.
Baby.
I froze.
It wasn't Cyris.
It was deeper. Wilder.
Listen to me, Rynn said, his tone sharper than anything I had felt before. That power inside you—it's rising.
"I don't know how to use it," I whispered, my voice shaking.
Then learn now, he snapped. Or you'll get them all killed.
My chest tightened.
The bond surged violently, emotions crashing into me—Cyris' control, Rynn's urgency, the fading presence of the others trapped in the illusion.
"I can't—"
You can, Rynn growled. Stop thinking. Feel it.
The air around me shifted again.
Stronger this time.
Unstable.
The witches' attention snapped toward me immediately.
"She's reacting," one of them rasped, her voice barely holding together.
"Hold her!" another ordered.
The wraiths moved again.
Straight toward me.
Something inside me broke.
Not fear.
Not panic.
Something deeper.
I screamed.
And everything exploded.
A surge of power burst from my body, raw and uncontrolled. The ground beneath me cracked as the force expanded outward in a violent wave.
Then—
They appeared.
Wings.
White.
Blinding.
They tore free from my back, spreading wide, larger than anything human, their presence alone distorting the air around them. When they moved—when they flapped—
The entire battlefield was thrown back.
Bodies lifted off the ground, sent flying meters away as the force hit everything around me. Wraiths shattered mid-form, their shapes breaking apart under the pressure.
The light came next.
Not soft.
Not warm.
Radiant.
Blinding.
It poured out of me, flooding the space, swallowing everything in its reach.
Screams followed.
Not from my side.
From theirs.
The witches.
Their bodies reacted instantly, drying faster, cracking as the light touched them. One by one, they collapsed, their forms turning to dust before they could even finish their spell.
The illusion broke.
The wolves dropped back into motion, the Guardians gasping as control returned—but it didn't matter.
Because the light didn't stop.
Everything around me continued to wither.
Anything too close—
Dried.
Destroyed.
Erased.
I couldn't control it.
"…Make it stop…" I whispered, but it only grew stronger.
Then—
Cyris.
He moved through it.
Through the light.
Through the destruction.
Unaffected.
Untouched.
He reached me in seconds, his presence cutting through everything else as he grabbed my arm firmly.
"Baby!" he called sharply.
The moment he touched me—
The power stuttered.
The light flickered.
My breathing broke, uneven, unstable as everything around me slowed.
The wings trembled behind me.
Then—
Faded.
The light collapsed inward, disappearing as quickly as it had come.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Shocking.
The battlefield was unrecognizable. Wraiths gone. Witches reduced to nothing. The ground scarred from the force of what had just happened.
Only a few remained standing.
Cyris.
And the wolves.
Still in their forms.
Not shifting back.
Not moving.
And that—
That was wrong.
I looked at them, my chest tightening again.
"…Why aren't they changing back?"
Cyris didn't answer immediately.
Because he felt it too.
Something else had gone wrong.
And whatever I had just awakened—
Had changed more than just the fight.
It had changed them.