My name is Freyja. No one knows I am the First Witch. Those who knew were eliminated twenty-one years ago—a year after the Fey Empress and her consort, the High Prince of All Angels, decapitated the sadistic Angel King, my biological father.

Unfortunately, a band of my father’s old elite sentinels escaped the High Prince’s purge. They found out I was the last of King Agro’s bloodline and slaughtered the whole village where I was born. My mother, a genetically advanced human, managed to hide me and fought to her last breath. 

The Angels have been hunting me ever since.

I removed the hood that concealed my face and quickened my pace. The morning sun shone on my skin and the wind tousled my flaming red hair. Ahead, waves of tea rose swayed and golden sunlight spilled over the ancient treetops.

The howls of wolves reverberated through the forest, and my heart leapt. They were near. They’d caught my scent.

A large, white wolf shot out of the forest, and three others followed him.

I hurled myself toward them and they howled with delight.

We crashed into each other and I leapt onto the white wolf’s back, riding him. He put on a great show to shake me off while the rest of the pack spun around us. My gloved hands gripped the wolf’s muzzle firmly, holding him in place.

He snarled, but I didn’t let go. It wasn’t the first time he’d bared his teeth at me.

Surrender, Blaez! I said. 

Blaez tumbled to the ground and rolled, aiming to pin me under his weight. I jumped away just in time. Lenka, Ty-Ohni, and Hó’nehe pounced on my ankles and tripped me, yipping with glee.

Lenka, a beautiful red she-wolf, nipped at my ribs, and Ty-Ohni had his mouth on my shoulder. He knew better than to get his teeth near my throat; I wouldn’t tolerate that. Hó’nehe resorted to dragging my leg keenly, wanting me to play tug-of-war.

I conjured a picture in my mind. I’ll stay. I won’t leave again for a long while.

Blaez rose, then stretched, his big head on his paws, and watched me like a philosopher.

I shoved away the pack that crowded me and rose to a crouch. I’ll bathe.

And then we play? Lenka asked.

It depends, I said as I ran into my forest.

My pack shot past me.

I laughed, but the sound died in my throat as wing-shaped shadows swept overhead.

Angel hunters!

My blood turned to ice.

They never gave up on their hunt, but they shouldn’t have found me so soon. I’d been in the human city Palmyra for less than three days. Now that I was with my wolves, the hunters should have lost track of me. In the past, being with my pack had blocked the Angels’ sight and kept me under their radar.

I looked up at the sky, my heart in my throat. My wolves howled in fury, sensing my distress.

But there were no Angel wings beating in the clear sky. I blew out a breath of relief. My nerves were playing tricks on my eyes.

Let’s go. Bath! I called my wolves.

Light danced with shadows, wind sent down sweet-smelling blossoms, and the sunlight on my face made me want to sing.

Lenka and Hó’nehe soared into the gem-like stream, not bothering to ask my permission or wait for me. But then, my pack wasn’t like any other pack. They had a hybrid as their alpha.

Ty-Ohni stood guard and Blaez padded quietly beside me. He was moody, but I wouldn’t concern myself with his brooding. I needed to wash off my weariness, the grime, and the human scent.

I unfastened my cloak and tossed it onto a rock by the spring before I extracted a knife from my boot and dropped it on the ground. I did the same with the other two daggers strapped to either side of my legs. Earthling weapons couldn’t harm an Angel, but mine had been forged in the Angels’ homeland and could bleed them.

I’d stolen the first dagger, obtained the second from an Angel hunter who had nearly killed me before I sent him to Earth hell, and bought the third on the black market.

My eyes flicked to my tight leather gloves. I only took them off when I bathed. If anyone were to touch my bare skin, they’d die in agony.

Only my wolves were somehow immune, but I was still careful with them and tried not to touch them without my gloves. My bare touch didn’t drain their life force as it did other beings, but it weakened them.

I was the First Witch. I carried the curse of death touch.

I tugged at the glove on my index finger, ready to pull it off. Blaez, who had been watching my every move, turned his head and snarled.

Invaders! Ty-Ohni broke off toward east.

Blaez raced after him. Lenka and Hó’nehe leapt out of the stream and shook the water off their shining furs, which splattered all over me, before charging after the white wolf. 

Panic seared through my throat. The wings that had cast shadows over me hadn’t been a trick of my mind. The hunters had found me.

Angels were the mightiest, cruelest of all alien species. They’d once conquered our planet in two weeks. I didn’t expect to escape this time. My wolves would defend me to their last breath, but they were also my weakness when it came to battling the Archangels.

I could slip away right now to preserve myself.

I returned my crescent moon-shaped knife to my boot and shook my head in disgust at my cowardly thought as I picked up the other twin daggers on the forest floor.

I couldn’t hide forever.

I wouldn’t.

I removed my gloves, stuffing them in my pocket, and dashed after my pack. My consciousness pushed forward into Blaez’s.

Through his eyes, colors burst in front of me. Everything became super focused and vivid, yet everything—the trees, bushes, and blossoms— blurred past at his blinding speed.

Blaez, I called, lead the pack away.

Never, he answered. We defend you!

The Angel hunters are too dangerous, I said.

We’re more, he growled, as if I had hurled an insult at him.

The wolves rushed toward the threat without fear or reservation.

So, this was the showdown between me and my enemies.

The hunters’ silhouettes appeared in my field of sight.