Rescued by Ryland: Deep River Shifters ( Book 1) by Lisa Daniels (36)

Chapter Two

She knew it was a dream.  She always experienced the same one – them standing at the entrance to a city shrouded within darknes.  Shadows roaming the derelict buildings, the ruined streets, and hundreds upon thousands of bones aligning the roads.  She saw her big, monstrous father growling, before he dived after a Shadow.  The Shadow grabbed him mid leap by the throat, and his paws flailed uselessly.  Somehow, in the Shadow’s reach, her father looked pathetically small, and the creature itself massively huge, dwarfing out everything else in sight.

Her mother screamed, and flung out both arms, the scream empowering the red lightning that slashed out of her fingertips, whipping the Shadows that coalesced in the streets, except they reacted as if nothing had happened.

Her father’s snarls turned into yelps and whines.

The Shadow in her dream, the one holding her father, turned blackened lips and a dead smile to her.  “You cannot win.  Not whilst you cling to your inferior ways.  Everyone you know and love will die.  Everything you stand for, turned to dust.”

Again, Yarrow watched as her father fell limp, before his body stirred, and his eyes changed to ghostly blue.  She watched as her mother, sobbing, dashed into the streets, before crumbling into bones by the ravenous touch of the monsters around.

“You will become one of us.  It is destined.  We await you.  Every step you take towards the Great War is another step closer into our arms.”

The Shadow smiled as it descended upon her.  Her limbs were frozen, unable to move.

“Give in.”

It touched her on the face, and her veins blackened.  She began to scream…

“Wake up.”

The voice came from a great distance.

“Wake up!”

In a great suction of noise, Yarrow yanked herself out of the dream, eyes snapping open to a tumult of noise, snarls and yells.  Her mother shook her, slapping her face, and Yarrow exclaimed, before her brain worked double time to comprehend the madness around them.

“Defend!”  Her mother barked the command, before whirling and dashing into the night, a hum emitting from her throat, along with crackles of lightning. 

Shadows crawled out of the snows, attacking them in the absence of moonlight, and the chaos superseded everything else.

Father?  Her eyes settled upon her father, circling around the witches with the rest of the Dreadwood, their barks piercing the air.  A Shadow formed near her father, and he lunged after it, catching it in expert grace and power, tearing it to shreds.  Small fry.  Yarrow scanned the erupting battle scene, her thoughts a mess, trying to register every little detail as her heart pulsed wildly.  Adrenaline coursed through her blood, and she felt the influence of her magic at her fingertips, begging to be used. 

Vrin in his russet wolf form fought two Shadows at once.  Every single wolf had at least one Shadow upon him as far as Yarrow could see.  So many Shadows!  They want to try and decimate us before we even reach the Fractured Spine!

Shafts of fire spewed out from the Ghost Lake encampment.  Geraline lived up to her reputation as the Blaze Witch, delivering great swoops of fire like burning scythes through the air, ending the Shadows that dripped out of their hiding spots.  Faith, dear sun and moon, she moved with unerring precision, every step perfect, every slash and thrust timed as if choreographed.  Somehow, she only just managed to avoid blows, only just managed to sidestep in time…

That’s insane.  I would have loved to have a power like that!

Raine, the enchantment witch, used a small crossbow to fire off into the enemy, and a sabre when a Shadow got too close.  Alyssa, along with Kain at her side, fought with ferocity and valor, not quite as unearthly as Faith, but with enough skill to merit her place upon the expedition.

Two Shadows formed behind Priya’s back.  Immediately, Yarrow released the building energy inside her with a roar, forked lightning snaking out her hands and electrocuting the attacking Shadows into ash.

Somehow, Yarrow knew she needed to move.  She needed to find Erlandur and the other leaders.

She knew where Erlandur was, the biggest danger would be.  She ran through the melee, ignoring fights that looked underhand, firing bolts and accumulating the headache in her skull when she saw fighters in dire need of assistance.  She passed Alyssa, Linther – and saw Vrin leap into pace beside her, his muzzle black with Shadow ichor. 

“I need to find Erlandur,” Yarrow hissed, and the werewolf nodded, before bowing, and she clambered on, gasping in fright as a Shadow swiped at her from the side.  Vrin bounded off, howling a battle cry, and the other werewolves imitated it, bolstering the morale of all the fighters.

Yarrow clutched his fur tight, her heart squeezing painfully when she saw werewolves fall, overwhelmed or tricked.

Destiny and fate didn’t exist for the werewolves of the Lunar Wastes.  The Moon Goddess watched her children with quiet compassion as they fought, without ceremony or congratulation.  If they fell under her watch, they were welcomed back into her arms, without mockery or sadness.

Vrin galloped over the hordes, frenetically seeking Erlandur – and he hurtled up a steep hill, where werewolves scrabbled against their eternal foes, spotting Erlandur upon the slope, his undead wolves circling around him in a toothy shield.  His weapon was drawn, his visor down, as he faced a Shadow upon the hilltop.

Vrin skidded to a halt alongside Erlandur and Yarrow vaulted off, electricity crackling in her hands.  Erlandur appeared to not notice her, swaying as if in a trance.

“You steal our magic…” the Shadow hissed, its sibilant voice infecting their ears, as if maggots had started wriggling in them.  “But you are nothing but a pale imitation.”

Fear iced through Yarrow’s veins.  Vrin let out a mournful howl, his hackles rising.  The undead wolves, silent as the grave, continued their menacing circle around their master.

The armored human wasted no breath upon words, on taunting or boasting.  He stepped forward.

The Shadow cackled, before black bolts of noxious energy whisked out of its body like tendrils.  Erlandur’s armor tanked the hit, acting as a sort of lightning rod, and he moved on, his footsteps dogged, raising his sword.

Shadows stirred around, grasping at the undead bodyguards, who lunged upon them with mindless rage.

Yarrow, teeth clenched, spread out her arms, fought past her headache to summon more lightning from her fingertips, arcing out in a cone to the Shadows on either side.  Vrin tackled one that formed behind them, and Yarrow followed behind Erlandur, nervous, heart frenzied, as the armored knight took on the Supreme.

She knew Supremes were bad.  They hoisted incredibly destructive power, but were only found in the confines of the Fractured City, unable to take a single step into the Lunar Wastes without severe limiting abilities on their powers.

Yet, one of them stood here now, directing the Shadows to kill, firing darkness at them, seemingly limitless in energy.  If Yarrow spouted out that much power, she’d be dead.

Erlandur tanked it, driving himself forward.

The Shadow laughed in delight as Erlandur neared, and the black energy covered him, leaving nothing but a flickering ball, obscuring his body.  He stopped moving.  The undead wolves parted, keeping a distance from the power.

With a grunt, and a blaze of pain crashing into her skull, Yarrow forced out more energy, more power, screaming as she did so to try and distract from the pain.

She heard a bark from Erlandur.  “No!”

The lightning tangled in the dark storm.  To Yarrow’s horror and dismay, it flicked back, and black energy shocked her.  The jolt caused her muscles to spasm.  She flew across the air, tumbling and rolling.  The energy crackled around her as she skidded to a stop.

The last thing she saw, before her mind slipped into unconsciousness, was a Shadow looming above her, reaching with spindly hands.