Delta [Epsilon #2]

Chapter Sixty-Two

Kyra

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I charged towards the first wolf I saw -- one with a grey coat and bright, purple eyes. An Upsilon. I watched as it summoned a wall of compacted dirt, perhaps to protect itself, but one searing blast of fire was enough to loosen the soil, allowing me to barge right through it. The Upsilon's eyes widened in terror as I pushed my arm forward, a great blaze sitting in the palm of my hand. I threw it forward and the fireball engulfed the wolf in a matter of seconds, allowing it only a few seconds to shriek before it collapsed to the ground.

I focused my attention on my next target -- a Southern foot soldier. I knew I couldn't stew on the fact I was killing people I'd basically damned from the beginning. If I did, I would freeze up, and I could not allow that to happen -- not now!

I continued to plough through the opposition; the South a force that seemed to pour out from the forest in a never-ending wave. Though much of the Upsilon's magic was pretty weak compared to mine, that didn't stop me from getting cut by jets of water or sliced by air. The Southern soldiers were formidable, too -- some managing to inflict damage before I burned them with my flame. Even so, it wasn't really me I was worried about -- it was the Northerners. My friends. Though Upsilons weren't much of a worry for me, they sure as hell posed a threat to the Northerners.

I didn't give myself time to look around and see how the rest of my comrades were doing. I could hear death all around me; smell it with the thick, metallic tang in the air. Snarls and growls and screams melted together like some sick symphony. Still, I didn't dare look to see who had fallen, or whose neck had just got snapped several yards behind me. 

Just as I'd burnt down another Upsilon, I saw something dark emerge from the forest about two hundred yards down my right. My stomach dropped as my gaze snapped towards it, only to find Azriel himself walking out into the fray -- strolling in as though he had not a care in the world. But it wasn't his apparent swagger which infuriated me.

Behind him was a light-haired woman, someone who I immediately recognised as his Zeta, tugging forth two people in chains. Zion and Alia, I realised with an icy-hot thump of my heart. 

My vision went red. Without even thinking, I shifted into my wolf form and hurtled towards them, my eyes glued to my friends. They looked frail and sickly, and as I got closer, I could see bruising and lacerations on both. It only fuelled my growing rage.

Once I reached them, I shifted back to my human form, landing on two feet as my cloak fluttered close around me. I stood to find Azriel smirking at me, not even thirty feet away, as though he was expecting my approach. As though this was all some game to him. I ground my teeth together. My eyes dipped back to my friends, trying to glean what I could of their conditions, but Azriel's sudden cough drew my gaze back to his.

"Ah, Kyra dear. What a lovely surprise," he said pleasantly, as though there wasn't a literal war raging around us. I remained silent -- my eyes darting between him and my iron-bound friends. Why had he brought them? What was he planning to do with them? Nothing good, I knew.

He followed my gaze, and his smirk widened. "Why, how rude of me to overlook our guests," he announced, focusing on me. "I brought dear Zion and your little Upsilon friend here to watch the show. I figured it would make me a bad Alpha to exclude them from the festivities..."

My jaw tightened, but I forced myself to remain silent. The slightest hint of frustration crossed his face at my lack of reaction, and before I knew it, a prying darkness invaded my senses. I grunted, fighting against the invisible tendrils threatening to dominate mind, the cursed bond between us still alive and well.