Zev conveyed the information to Fen and Dimitri. They would spread the word and the Carpathians would make certain they were in a good position to take down the remaining Sange rau if need be. He hoped if they managed to kill the mages and destroy their plan, the mixed bloods would understand what and who they had worked for. Perhaps they were under some kind of spell. They certainly weren’t members of the Sacred Circle, although one or two of those he’d killed, he recognized from meeting them in their packs. They’d definitely started out as Lycan.

He inched his way through the crowd, staying as low to the ground as possible, winding his way without form toward the fire. Even without his body he felt the terrible melting power of the blue flame. He knew as he approached it that that flame was part of the power grid Branislava and the others were trying to take down.

Zev wrapped his body in his lifemate, feeling her dragon scales close over his skin, those fiery protective scales that warded off even the heat of a magical blue flame. He sent her the overwhelming love he felt for her, his faith in her, and most of all his gratitude for her. Even in the middle of her working at destroying Xaviero’s web of power, she enfolded him in love. He was not going alone through that fire.

He wore the red-gold scales like a long hooded coat of armor. He moved slowly even though he felt the fierce heat. The scales reflected the hot blue flames back away from him and he found he could actually breathe as he inched his way toward his grandfather.

For the first time he was truly grateful for his mixed blood. With those silver chains, Hemming would never be able to run. He would have to sling him over his shoulder and carry him away from that triangle and the fearsome opening in the ground. He couldn’t look into that hellhole.

As he neared his goal, Xaviero stood over Hemming, his ceremonial knife held high in his hand. The knife was much larger than he had ever seen in a ceremony, looking more as if it could kill a huge animal, much less a man. Runes danced across the silver blade, continually moving as if thirsty for the blood of the Dark Blood the mage intended to murder, yet not sever his head, preserving the body for Xavier.

Hemming didn’t try to move away, nor did he look away from Xaviero. The silver chains had to be agony, burned so deeply into his skin Zev could barely make out that there was actually skin left on his grandfather. The prisoner was fully aware of his surroundings and the intentions of the mage, but he didn’t blink, staring defiantly at Xaviero as he chanted, his voice rising with Xayvion’s.

The four women had cast their circle of protection right under the noses of the mages’ watchdogs. Each time a Sange rau or a hellhound got near them, Daciana’s pack, along with Tomas, Andre, Lojos, Mataias and Razvan, kept them back. Fen, Dimitri or Zev had come in to finish the job of taking down any threat to the women.

Branislava lifted her arms, uncaring that either of the mages or their sentinels might spot her. It was now or never. Tatijana, Skyler and Ivory followed her actions.

Alder, battle witch, heed to my call,

It is time for battle, evil must fall.

Cedar known as the tree of life,

I call to you now as the gates of hell come to life.

The four women joined their power, merged minds and became one single entity, one heart and goal—to stop the mage from his dark deeds.

Blackthorn straif, Dark Crone of the woods,

I have need of your power, stand and slay that which must be undone,

Ancient oak Dagda,

Dominion of power I call to you now, feast on this blackest of powers.

Now, Branislava whispered into his mind. Hurry.

Zev didn’t hesitate, trusting her. The flames of the two candles flickered, leapt and then died. The four remaining trees that helped formed the inverted pentagram each began to change, starting in their root systems. A healthy mottled bark replaced the sickly white color from the ground up the tree to the reaching branches, and finally the leaves turned silvery green.

Zev burst into the triangle as the source of power faded, careful not to touch the mage, but literally snatching the chained body out from under the knife plunging downward toward the heart. He rolled with his grandfather, away from the mage and out of the triangle, coming to his feet and shifting Hemming’s body over one shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

The hellhounds reacted, snarling and charging him, their speed utterly incredible. Zev ran at them, closing the distance between them every bit as fast. When he was just feet from the massive beasts, he hurdled them, using the strength from his mixed blood, the Lycan’s ability to spring and the distance and speed of the combination of species.

Fen and Dimitri closed ranks, facing the hellhounds chasing Zev. Covered in battle wounds, slashes and fierce bites, Andre, Tomas and Lojos joined them while Mataias dropped back to protect Zev as he carried his grandfather’s body back to the circle of protection the four women had cast around them.

The blue flame in the fire sputtered and faded, was consumed by the rich red gold of the natural flames. At once the color of the smoke changed, and the fire itself died down so that the flames weren’t reaching for that unhealthy bank of fog overhead. As the white smoke mingled with the black and eventually devoured it, the dense wall of fog began to break up into smaller, ragged patches.

The wall of foul fog surrounding the clearing, making it impenetrable, thinned as a cooling wind began to blow through it. The spirits trapped in the unnatural smoke drifted into the purified smoke, rising upward toward the clouds where the wind took them.

Xaviero roared with rage as molten lava burst from the hole in the ground. The smell of sulfur claimed every other scent, drowning out even the smell of blood. For one moment voices could be heard. Wailing. Shrieking. Demonic. The lava rained down inside the triangle, forcing Xaviero and Xayvion to flee the safety of their refuge.

The four women turned as one unit to face the fleeing mages. Xaviero threw his hands in the air, tracing a pattern of destruction, twisting the raining lava into fireballs of magma and hurling them toward his enemies. As one, Branislava, Skyler, Tatijana and Ivory flung up their hands, tracing symbols and chanting softly under their breath to turn the firebombs into harmless rain.

The earth shook violently, throwing everyone to the ground. Once. Twice. A third time. One lone spirit shot close to the surface, hovered there in the fading smoke, mouth gaping wide in a silent scream of protest. His hollow eyes stared accusingly. It wasn’t difficult to recognize Xavier as he tried desperately to escape.

Ivory stepped forward, pushing air at the smoke, clean, crisp, fresh air, right into the middle of the apparition. There was no malice on her face. No hatred. Just acceptance of what had to be done.