Page 105 of Her Blood Revenge

We’re outnumbered and outpowered. No way these little witches fight off these monsters.

‘Archie. I think you may need to shift.’

‘I just got dressed!’

I flick my sword clear of blood and prepare.

The last time we faced this many, we had a well-trained army of humans and powerful earth, water, air and fire witches at our side.

Arch and I both look at each other. The only comfort we have is that our girl, wherever she is, isn’t here to die or be taken. That Dorian is with her.

My feet dig into the dirt, and I grip my sword firmly. Every muscle in my body becomes rigid as, from the crowd, Sathick emerges.

Sathick grins deeply, his eyes on me and mine on him.

‘The Dream Walker is mine,’ he snarls. ‘The rest… you know what to do.

He attacks, sprinting forward with incredible speed. The ground shakes as the unseelie follow suit, charging at uswith their teeth bared and roaring their grotesque battle cries.

This coven is done.

We’re cornered.

We’re fucked.

But I’ll take as many of them as possible before I go.

Archie shifts, his great wolf form making the witches at our back gasp and scream.

But he stands at their side, his head low and shoulders high.

We charge.

I raise my sword and ready it to bring it down on Sathick. He dodges and punches me in the gut, tossing me back. When I land, he’s already on top of me, his jaws wide and going for my face. The points of his teeth sink into my skin, and the stench of his breath may very well be the last thing I experience in this life.

But he’s whipped off me. Sitting, I see him on the ground, clawing at his throat as a great red vine encircles him like a snake.

I look back, but all the earth witches are staring at it in much the same way as I am.

The earth beneath us splinters and cracks, and more great thick roots of deep red shoot upwards. They wrap around the unseelie, twisting around their legs, waists, necks and arms. They tighten, and the air fills with screaming in seconds. Many of the unseelie look on in horror as their limbs go flying, torn from their bodies by these throbbing roots that whip around and seek them out.

Archie and I stop dead in our tracks as the unseelie are literally ripped apart by roots.

Then, we follow the cracks.

And smile.

‘There she is,’ I whisper.

Pixie. A fucking goddess in her own right. Kneeling there with a smirk, her palms in the dirt and her eyes on the monsters before her. Similar roots are entangled around her wrist, and she looks unbelievably smug.

An arm lands at my feet, and blood splatters my face on its rough impact. But fuck, I cannot, and will not, take my eyes off her.

She rises. The roots remain attached to her but offer no resistance when she walks towards the army of unseelie. They grow with her, letting her move freely as they enhance her strength. If any unseelie get close, they’re ripped apart by her roots. They protect her.

The fact that I get a raging erection watching her slam her fist into monster after monster should be concerning. Seeing her use her strength to beat the living shit out of her enemy should not make me so turned on I have to adjust myself. And yet, here I am. On a battlefield, rock hard and thoughts far from decapitation and disembowelling.

I love that crazy little witch.

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