Page 63 of A Roar for Magic

“How dare you—” Justus’s words cut off as Rook’s roar shook the cabin’s foundations.

The shadow witch spun, abandoning his assault on Clover to fling corrupt power at the intruders. Banner and Weston intercepted the attack while Rook charged straight for Justus.

His uncle’s tiger form burst forth, enhanced by forbidden magic that made his eyes glow red and his claws steam where they struck. They crashed together with bone-crushing force, the impact demolishing the cabin’s rear wall. They burst through into the forest, locked in a deadly dance of teeth and claws.

Justus’s augmented strength sent Rook crashing through a massive oak. Splinters rained down as he rolled to his feet, decades of fighting experience guiding his movements. He came up under Justus’s guard, enchanted claws ripping through muscle and tendon. Blood sprayed as he tore into his uncle’s flank.

“Weak!” Justus’s voice distorted through his tiger form. “Too soft to be alpha. I’ll show you true power!”

FORTY-ONE

Dark energy crackled around him as he pressed his advantage, battering Rook with magically enhanced strikes. Pain bloomed across Rook’s shoulders, but his tiger welcomed it, using the hurt to sharpen their focus. Every blow fueled their rage, their need to protect their mate driving them beyond normal limits.

They careened through the forest, destroying everything in their path. Trees splintered under their combined weight. The ground tore up beneath their claws. Blood—both his and Justus’s—stained the earth black in the moonlight.

Through their savage battle, Rook caught glimpses of the cabin. The shadow witch had vanished, using their fight as cover to escape. Banner and Weston worked to free Clover from her restraints.

A familiar spark of green magic flickered at the edge of his awareness. Clover, somehow still conscious, poured her remaining energy into a counter-spell. The corrupt magic enhancing Justus’s strength wavered.

Rook seized the opening. He ducked under Justus’s wild swing and clamped his jaws around his uncle’s throat. They crashed to the forest floor, Justus thrashing as Rook’s teethbroke skin. Blood filled his mouth. One precise twist would end it.

His tiger demanded death, retribution for threatening their mate. But the alpha in him knew this wasn’t his judgment alone to make. With supreme effort, he pinned Justus down, crushing his limbs until bones snapped.

A pained cry from the cabin’s direction shattered his focus. Clover had collapsed, magic dangerously low. Fear replaced fury as he shifted back to human form, leaving Banner and Weston to secure the beaten Justus.

He reached Clover just as Madame Zephyrine and Neve materialized through the shattered front door. The twin witches moved with urgent purpose, their combined power illuminating the destroyed cabin.

“Step back,” Madame Zephyrine commanded. “We must purge the shadow magic before it consumes her completely.”

Rook’s tiger howled at the thought of moving away, but he forced himself to give them space. The sisters worked in perfect synchronization, weaving light and healing magic around Clover’s still form. Their voices rose in an ancient chant as they drew the corruption from her body like poison from a wound.

“Take her to the pride lodge,” Neve instructed once the ritual ended. “She’ll need time to recover.”

Everything blurred into motion. Banner and Weston dragged the broken but living Justus to the lodge’s secure holding cells. The pride council convened an emergency session, elders arguing over his fate while Rook paced outside the healing rooms where Clover rested.

His tiger clawed at his control, demanding they finish what they started. The urge to tear Justus apart warred with his duty as alpha to uphold pride law.

“Let me up, you overprotective beast.” Clover’s weak voice drew him to her side. “I need to tell them something.”

“You need to rest.”

“What I need is to tell the council what your uncle confessed.” Steel threaded through her tone despite her exhaustion. “About your father’s death.”

Ice flooded Rook’s veins. “What?”

Before she could answer, power rolled through the lodge like thunder. Ren Athran, one of Mystic Hollow’s founders, strode into the council chamber. Though he appeared no older than Rook, ancient magic radiated from him in palpable waves. His presence commanded attention, alpha energy and dragon power combining into something primordial and fierce.

Fury blazed in his eyes as they fell on Justus. Every person in the room instinctively backed away from his barely contained rage.

The time for judgment had come.

FORTY-TWO

Ren Athran’s power pressed down on the council chamber like a massive boulder. Even Rook’s tiger, still snarling for blood, recognized the ancient authority radiating from the dragon shifter.

“Let her speak.” Ren’s voice rumbled with barely contained fury as he nodded toward Clover.

Rook helped Clover to her feet, supporting her as she faced the council. Her fingers gripped his arm, drawing strength from their connection.

---