Page 87 of Wicked Witch of the Wolf

He tried to jerk himself free, but I wasn’t letting go. My earth magic was stronger than his cursed magic, and I was going to prove it.

The tiny feet retreated, and footfalls like thunder shook the ground. One howl, two, and then a cacophony of sound rent the night.

Desmond’s body jolted violently. It bent at an odd angle and seemedlighterthan before. The soil erupted around his legs as if it were trying to purge them. I held on, but the soil was determined. It wanted himout.

He was wrenched from the ground—either expelled by the soil or torn away by the wolves. My guess was some of each. His screams cut short in a whiplash instant, and I no longer felt him on the surface.

“I’m going to destroy you, witch. I don’t care what you think you’ve got on me. None of that’s going to matter.” Floyd’s voice raked across my nerves the way his claws had raked across my throat last night. “First, I’m going to take away all your friends. Then I’m going to kill your lover—my traitorous son—and then I’m going to kill you. Slowly, bite by bite. I’ll make sure the entire pack has a taste.”

“Where is he?” The sound of my voice erupted from the ground like scalding water from a geyser. It came from everywhere and nowhere.

Floyd laughed humorlessly. “He’s as dead as if he were in your granddaddy’s cemetery.”

Great. He knew about my connection to Sexton.

“There ain’t a damn thing you can do about it, either, witch.”

“You’re going to die in ways even the gods don’t yet know about, Floyd Pallás.” My voice burst out of the soil, sending dirt and dust flying. Footfalls and the sound of coughing grew fainter as some of the wolves—including Floyd—pulled back.

“Is that what you think?”

“What Ithinkis that your death will be celebrated like a holiday.Once a year, we’ll all barbecue steaks and set off fireworks to commemorate the day you were crushed. We’ll call it The-Bastard-is-Dead-Day because we won’t even remember your stupid name, only that you were a fly that needed to be swatted.”

He snarled. “I’m going to enjoy watching you die.”

“You think you’re the only one with power here, wolf?”

I’d transcended consciousness. I existed inside the earth and above it equally. The minerals in the soil were my eyes, the water beneath it my blood, the heat rising from the planet’s core my breath.

“Sir, we should go,” Mason said.

“Get your paws off me, Hartman. Pallás wolves don’t run.” Floyd stomped the ground above me. At least, that was how it felt. I was everything and everywhere now. For all I knew, he could be a mile away.

“You should’ve listened to your second,” I said. “Because I’m finished talking.”

I burst out of the soil. Floyd was inches away. I grabbed his head and shoved him into the dirt. He went in as smoothly as if I’d turned him upside down and whacked his feet with a giant mallet.

The whole thing took seconds.

Before any of the wolves could attack, I dove in after him.

“Betty, no. Ronan’s not dead, I swear. Don’t do this. You’ll start a war you can’t win,” Mason spoke directly into the soil. “He’s got allies, and you’ve got friends. He dies, and they strike against your people. Let him out.”

Floyd wriggled and cried and screamed into the earth, but no one heard him.

Except the earth.

And me.

“Why would I believe a Pallás wolf?”

“You know why.” The growly undertone disappeared from his voice, replaced by a layer of sincerity—though he was pretty good at faking that, in my opinion—and urgency. “You hate me, but you alsolistened to me today, so there’s a part of you that trusts that what I say is the truth.”

“I trust you to look out for yourself.”

“Then trust that I don’t want anything to happen toher.”

“Who? You can speak freely. He can’t hear you. He can’t breathe, either, so you should probably move it along.”

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