It was noon when Amara guided Minach to the cliff’s edge outside, holding tight to his hand.

“Take a deep breath,” she said, smiling as he looked at her skeptically. He obeyed, inhaling the sea air into his lungs.

“All right, done,” he said. “Wait—what exactly am I doing?”

“I want you to learn to associate the ocean with good things,” she replied. “For too long you’ve linked it to your unfortunate youth. I’m conditioning you, you see.”

“Training me, you mean,” he chuckled. “Like a new puppy who’s peed on the rug.”

Amara pushed herself up onto her tiptoes and kissed him. “Training you, then. I don’t ever want you to have another bad thought. As handsome as I find the creases between your eyebrows, I’d be delighted if they went away, because I’d know then that you were permanently happy.”

“If anyone can make them disappear it’s you, my beautiful Wolf,” he replied, offering her a second kiss.

Just then, a loud, high whistle sounded from somewhere in the distance.

“We’re sorry to interrupt,” a woman’s voice called from the direction of the cottage. Amara knew before looking that it was Trix who’d spoken, laughter in her voice. She and the others were marching around from the back of the house, ecstatic smiles lighting up each of their faces.

“Amara, we’re so glad you’re all right,” Trix said when they’d come closer. “We didn’t mean to sneak up on you, but I needed to know how you were doing. This guy here failed to notify us.” With that, she punched Minach in the arm.

“It’s all right,” Amara replied, chuckling. “To give you the quick version of an update, it seems that Minach has miraculously saved me and my Wolf. By all evidence, he’s somehow found a cure for what ailed me. And by-the-way, I’m very glad you’re all here.” She wrapped Trix up in a tight hug before doing the same for the others. “I suppose we can think about heading back to London soon, now that the Relics are in your possession. Though I want to check in on Caitlin first. Make sure she’s all right.”

“Yes, I suppose we should—” Aegis began, but before he’d completed the thought, Ashlyn grabbed his arm silently, pointing to something high up in the sky to the north.

The others followed her gaze, their eyes drawn to a distant flying form moving rapidly through the air in their general direction.

“Shite, it’s Tryst,” said Minach. “Coming back, no doubt, to finish the job.”

“No,” Aegis said. “She’s not coming here.” His stare moved in the other direction, towards Perthewey. “I think she may be headed for the village.”

“He’s right,” said Amara, reaching for Minach. “Look.”

The Red Dragon was turning back in a tight circle, her face steering itself downwards as though surveilling something or someone far below. Beneath her, walking over the rough terrain of Cornwall’s coast, marched myriad forms, human and animal alike. A small army of half-breeds under her command, following a dirt road some distance to the east of the cottage.

“What the hell?” asked Trix. “I thought she hated the Forsaken. How could she possibly be aligning herself with them?”

“They’re probably Mardoc’s former allies,” said Ashlyn in response, a grimace taking over her features. “The shifter who took me prisoner. He had many loyal servants before he died. She’s probably promised them the same benefits that he did.”

“Probably, though she has nothing to offer them,” said Amara slowly, turning to the others. “She can’t offer them a better life.” For a moment her eyes closed, and she reached for Minach. After a few seconds she winced before reopening her eyelids, her irises bright, alive with her Wolf. “My Sight has grown strong again,” she said, turning to her mate. “I can see her plan. We need to help the town’s residents. We need to fly down quickly, to warn the Wolves.”

Minach nodded, turning to his fellow Guild members. “Trix,” he said, “Not you. You need to stay here, and so do the Relics.”

“But I can fight,” Trix said, extracting a long stiletto from one of her boots.

“Just like my damned pregnant sister-in-law to be carrying blades about,” he groaned. “No fucking way. You’re not risking my little niece or nephew’s life because you enjoy jabbing Forsaken with pointy things. Give my brother a quick kiss, and we’ll be off.”

Lyre nodded, taking Trix aside to communicate something silent and intimate to her before laying a soft kiss on her lips. She threw her arms around him. “Be safe,” she said. “All of you.” Pulling away, she turned to Minach. “Don’t you dare let anything happen to my mate, brother-in-law, or my stiletto and your balls will have an unfortunate meeting.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it!” he laughed. Turning to the others, he said, “Let’s head out.”

“I’ll get on your back,” Amara said, and Minach nodded in reply before shifting. She scrambled onto his Dragon’s back just in time for him to arch into the sky, shooting them both towards Perthewey. Far below them in the distance, Amara could see Trekilling’s pack of Dire Wolves sprinting towards the village. Perhaps they’d seen the Red Dragon from their vantage point as well, and were headed to town to offer their protection.

“Do you suppose they’re on our side, or Tryst’s?” the Dragon’s voice boomed inside Amara’s mind.

“Ours,” she replied. “I met their leader yesterday. His name is Doric, and he wants to help the pack. He’s a good man.”

“My, you’ve been a busy girl, haven’t you? This is the first I’ve heard of this Doric.”

“Don’t even get me started,” Amara replied. “I’ll admit that I was thinking that perhaps he might be a suitable mate for a certain Wolf shifter in need of a man, but perhaps that was just my way of hoping you wouldn’t end up with her.”

“I couldn’t be with anyone but you, sweet, perfect woman.”

Seconds later the Dragons landed hard in the middle of Perthewey. The town’s residents were already making their way out of doors to take in the sight, their faces tight with concern as four enormous déors displayed themselves.

Amara leapt off Minach’s back to address the growing crowd.

“There is a threat heading your way,” she announced loudly, turning in a slow circle to take them all in with her serious gaze. “The four Dragons will do their best to protect the town. The Dire Wolves are also on their way. But your pack would be wise to stand your ground. We will do what we can, but there are Forsaken coming, as well as one very angry Dragon. Stay back until you’re instructed to move.”

She looked around at the large circle of townspeople that had formed around them. Caitlin and her sister Emma stood among them, looking frightened and confused as the former clutched her belly, her eyes bright with her Wolf’s presence.

“Caitlin,” Amara said, “Go home and lock yourself in. Please, for your child’s sake.”

The young woman nodded and slipped away, her sister’s eyes following her.

“The rest of you—anyone who’s capable, be ready for a fight. If it comes to a full-on battle, show no mercy to the Forsaken. As you know, they will show you little in the way of kindness.”

Amara moved to Minach’s side, her eyes turned to the sky. She closed them for a moment, seeking another vision, another predictor of things to come. This time, she saw the looming confrontation: Tryst’s blood-red Dragon. Men and women with blades, Forsaken changed into their sleek déors.

She sought an answer, waited for some internal voice to tell her what to do. But at first no answer came.

Then she saw it. Her elegant, tall grey Wolf, standing at the centre of everything, the Dragons floating in the air above her. But it wasn’t the Dragons or the Dire Wolves who would save the town from ruin.

It would be up to her.