She gritted her teeth against the pain, refusing to release her hold. The magic inside the collar was darker, its intent clearly meant to do more than force him to obey—it was meant to kill him after he completed his mission.
The collar was old. The hound had been resisting the magic for a long time, and she realized with horror that it was programed to slowly tighten in response to his defiance, until the pain would eventually drive him insane—if the collar didn’t decapitate him first.
The magic woven into the metal tried to sink beneath her skin, only to meet resistance and dissipate when her own magic rose from her bones in retaliation. The metal began to stretch as she pulled, her muscles straining, when the two sides finally snapped apart in her hand.
The lash of the broken spell jolted into her so hard she was knocked off her feet, crashing hard on her ass.
The spell shattered, and red, sparkling dust floated in the air, leaving her ears ringing.
The hound yipped, scrambling backwards, a brutal snarl rumbling in his chest…only to stop abruptly when he caught sight of what remained of the collar gripped in her hands. Smoke rose from where his paws rested on the ground, the beast clearly agitated.
His neck was scraped raw, the flesh beneath scarred and scabbed over many times. Without the collar in the way, she also saw deep claw marks carved into his hide where he obviously tried to claw the collar off his neck, nearly killing himself in the process.
She dropped the collar, bile rising in her throat when she saw patches of his skin were still attached to it.
Morgan pushed herself up on her hands and knees, peering at him from under her lashes, whispering one word under her breath. “Run.”
The hound didn’t hesitate, bounding into the tree line and disappearing in seconds.
The elves swore, a few of them taking a few steps to give chase, when their leader spoke.
“Leave him.” He stared directly at her, malice simmering in his blue eyes. “We have what we need. We leave before the fog descends.”
When they reached for her, Ward stepped between them, snapping off his own cuffs as he did so. When the elves brought up their weapons, Morgan staggered to her feet and came to stand next to Ward.
“Put your weapons away.” The leader turned away from them with a smirk. “They’ll follow of their own accord…if they want to see their friends alive.”
Her friends? He meant the students—her brain stuttered with the knowledge—they were alive and here in the primordial realm?
But how long would they remain that way?
A chill slowly invaded her soul, and she began to wonder about the attack on the Academy. The fight had been too organized, the creatures arriving without warning.
Which meant the attack on the Academy hadn’t been random.
Someone from the primordial realm had orchestrated the assault.
Chapter Six
Morgan thought the creatures who attacked the Academy were after her because of her bloodline, but now she wondered if there might be another reason.
Get rid of the Academy, and there would be no one to police the paranormals in the human realm.
They would be able to take over the planet without anyone to stop them.
When she tried to imagine why, only one answer came to her.
The fog.
There was something sinister in the mist that was slowly invading every nook and cranny of this world. She sensed it the last time she visited the primordial realm—something malevolent and hungry hiding in the misty shadows.
The elves mentioned it twice, their fear almost palpable, which meant the fog was spreading.
Ever since Atlas learned of her bloodlines, he was convinced she was the only one who could save the realm, always staring at her speculatively—but fuck!—she couldn’t even manage her pathetic love life. How was she supposed to save the world?
None of the books she’d scoured over the past two months provided any answers.
Apparently her time had run out.
The creatures of the realm had given up on finding a way to fix their world, and decided to take over hers instead.
Her duty to protect the human world fought against her loyalty and need to find her men.
The decision was easy…she would not be able to repel the attacking army on her own. If she wanted to save both worlds, she needed help, which meant she needed the assassins…and her men.
Her relief almost brought her to her knees.
She wasn’t sure she would’ve been able to abandon them, even if it meant saving the human race.
One of the elves approached her with another set of cuffs, and she rolled her eyes, lifting her free hands for emphasis. “Do you really think those would stop me?”
His mouth tightened at her snarky tone, but he tucked away the cursed cuffs.
“Let’s move.” The leader was so confident and cocky in his control over them, the bastard didn’t even bother to glance at them as he passed.
Ward growled under his breath next to her, but surprisingly fell into step next to her when she followed the others.
Two majestic moons rose in the sky, the silvery light illuminating the foreign world around them, tree branches obscuring the full view of the sky. The same couldn’t be said for the view of planet Earth. The large planet had turned so she could see the beautiful swirls of endless ocean, a small landmass only a hint under the wispy white clouds.
And Morgan was suddenly struck by what bothered her…the planet rotated, but never moved from its location in the sky.
“You need to move faster.” A rough shove sent her stumbling forward, but when she turned around to blast the guy, he wasn’t paying attention to her at all. No, his eyes were locked on the rising darkness around them. Though he didn’t show it, she caught a whiff of fear rising from him like the stench of rot.
They didn’t bat an eye at fighting Ward or her.
Practically gleeful about hunting a hellhound.
So what was stalking them that instilled such fear?
Suddenly worry for her men sent her stomach pitching up into her throat, and she mentally reached for the fragile connection binding them together.
Almost immediately turmoil flooded her mind, but she couldn’t pick up who it came from. The men were too far away for her to gauge more, the connection like a radio station a hair out of tune.
One moment, she could feel them, the next they were gone.
While she fought the connection at first, now that it was slowly fading, the loss devastated her.
While the brief contact meant the elves were taking them in the right direction, worry for her men had her quickening her pace until she began to pass their guards, Ward staying hard on her heels.
She kept watch on the rising darkness, and caught a glimpse of the hellhound stalking them every now and then, but kept the information to herself.
The elves couldn’t be trusted.
While Morgan didn’t think the hellhound had any interest in her, she was convinced she was missing something important. The hellhound wouldn’t have attacked the elves, not while he was so outnumbered. No, the hound must have been stalking her from the instant she came through the rift. But he was surprised to find her when he burst into the clearing. So, if the hellhound wasn’t after her, who did it want?
She glanced down at her arms in sudden understanding.
It had sensed her connection to another hellhound—Ascher.
That only left one question…was he friend or foe?
With each step, the stone gargoyle she shoved down her shirt thumped painfully against the knotted muscles of her spine, the blasted thing feeling like a brand being pounded into her flesh.
The bird on the other hand appeared to have vanished, but Morgan had never been that lucky. A burning heat spread along her spine, inching up her back like a heating pad that had become uncomfortably warm after sitting too long.
She didn’t know if the creature had done something to her or possibly given her a nasty parting rash.
The damned thing probably had fleas.