Page 70 of The Wolf

She stops, sneering. “Ugh, but of course that pegged simp is still thinking about me.”

“He told me how beautiful you were, how powerful,” I keep rambling, distracting her. “And good. People admired you. People worshipped you. You were an inspiration to every woman. The beloved goddess. What happened to you?”

For a second—just a second—I think some of it reaches her. And then, she hits me with another wave—even more acute than the last—her other hand grips my throat.

“Pathetic,” she hisses, tightening her hold until my vision tunnels. “You’re nothing. Just a weak, breakable human. And Iwillbreak you if I must, but you will do precisely what I want.”

Through the haze, I feel my body weaken, the fight slipping away as her powers dig deeper. And deeper. Until I can feel him again. My Alex.

And a split second later, I can hear him too. Distant yet desperately reaching for me.Julia! Julia!His deep, hoarse voice resonates in my head, frantic and filled with despair.Please, hold on.

It’s like a lifeline, and I grab hold with every shred of strength and sanity I have left.

Yet, another sound catches my attention now. Low at first and growing. It’s a guttural roar mixed with the violent beating of wings. Thunderous and unrelenting, the sound cuts through my agony like a knife.

Lilith’s grip loosens on my chin and throat as she steps back, her eyes darting skyward.

I crumple onto the snow to the ground, my body a quivering mass of pain, my vision swimming. But even through the blood dripping from my ears and the smudged haze of tears, I see him.

The gargoyle came back after all—of his free will.

His huge, leathery wings span the sky like dark storm clouds, covering the moonlight, his glowing eyes lock onto Lilith with a tracking focus.

With a deafening roar, he dives, arms and legs outstretched, tail curling behind him. She raises her hands, a dark mist forming a barrier, but it’s too late. His claws slam into her, tearing through her defenses like paper—she’s very clearly at limited power. His hind paws latch onto her back, digging into her spine with a sickening squelch like a predatory bird paralyzing its prey as blood sprays in a grotesque arc.

She wails, a piercing, throaty sound that echoes through the night. Her magic lashes out wildly, desperate and chaotic. One hit lands, a blast of shadow striking the gargoyle’s side. He snarls, faltering for a moment, and they both tumble from the sky.

The impact shakes the earth, a violent crash of stone and flesh. Snow and debris explode outward, clouding my alreadyfailing vision. I gasp, struggling to crawl away from the fight. My limbs feel like lead, and every movement sends fresh surges of pain rippling through me. I think I’m shattered, but I can’t stop.

Alex’s voice urges me forward, his desperate cries fueling me. I’m trying to control my thoughts, and I’m not letting him in fully. I don’t want him to see. He seems hectic and reckless enough at the moment, running to me.

I manage to roll a few feet away, and in the swirling chaos, I see them. The gargoyle stands tall, wings outstretched, a defiant sentinel against the demon witch who now struggles to rise. Her black blood drips from his claws, and his stony form is cracked but unwavering. Snarling, Lilith finally stands, her—Emily’s—once-flawless visage marred by claw marks and a fury that could set the world ablaze. They circle each other slowly, the air between them crackling with power and rage. Her hands raise as writhing tendrils of dark magic lash out like living whips. The gargoyle counters, his claws carving through the air with lethal precision, his palms glowing purple.

So he has magic. I wasn’t sure before but now I’m certain that he has some powers.

Each strike sends shockwaves that rattle the ground beneath me, but I can do nothing but watch, trembling and broken.

Their battle is vicious and unrelenting, a clash of ancient forces that feels too immense for this world. Lilith, with all her cunning and malice, tries to outmaneuver him, her magic snapping at his wings and legs like ravenous snakes. But the gargoyle is strong and stubborn, his massive wings creating gusts of wind that send her staggering. She lunges again, her movements a blur, and her nails rake across the gargoyle’s chest. Sparks fly as her extended blackened talons scrape against his stony exterior, leaving jagged lines etched into his form and drawing purple blood. He retaliates with a swipe of his own, his hooked claws slashing across her side, drawing a fountain ofinky blood that sizzles as it hits the ground. Her scream pierces the night, the sound raw and unearthly, but it only seems to drive the gargoyle further into his relentless assault. Yes, she manages to get a hold of his horns and twists his head the full 180 degrees, forcing him to his knees. Her palms slide lower, touching his temples and her magic starts to overpower him.

Then, out of nowhere, a new sound cuts through his bellows of pain. It’s a soft female voice—a strange, lilting chant, almost hypnotizing, which seems to echo from every direction through the dark woods. The words are incomprehensible, maybe Latin, but their power is undeniable.

Lilith freezes mid-attack, her head snapping toward the source of the sound. “No,” she growls, her voice shaken up for the first time. Her eyes widen in fury and fear as she glances around, searching. “NO!”

I strain to see through the haze of blood and fresh falling snow, but then I spot it. Two glowing emerald stones approach from the forest. In the distance, a lone figure cloaked in shadows emerges on the ridge. A witch. Her face is obscured, her silhouette barely illuminated by the faint glow of the moon, but her presence is palpable, her green eyes unforgettable. She raises a hand, her fingers weaving through the air as she chants. The power radiating from her is cold, sharp, and inescapable.

The enchantment strikes Lilith like lightning. Her body seizes, her back arching unnaturally as a scream erupts from her throat—a scream that morphs into an owl-like screech, so piercing it feels as though the sky itself might shatter. Black smoke begins to pour from her mouth, her nostrils, her eyes. It swirls and writhes, taking on a monstrous, winged, and horned shape, as it is ripped from Emily’s body the demon inhabits.

“No! You cannot banish me!” Lilith’s desperate voice falters.

Emily collapses, lifeless, to the ground as the smoky form of Lilith screeches once more, the sound fading into the distance as she is dragged down and hurled back into the underworld.

Silence falls, except for the ragged rasp of my own breathing. The gargoyle grips the sides of his head and sets it back straight with a loud cracking sound. He rises to his full height, his wings flapping heavily as he shifts, his glowing eyes fixed on the witch. He lets out a low growl and launches into the air, wings carrying him toward her in a single, powerful motion.

But she is already gone.

The air where she stood ripples, then stills. It’s as though she was never there, her presence erased as quickly as it had appeared. The gargoyle hovers for a moment, scanning the horizon, his frustration evident in the deep rumble that emanates from him. He lands heavily, his wings folding against his back as he turns and strides toward me in a hurry.

I feel the rough texture of his clawed hand brushing against my forehead. His eyes, glowing and fierce moments ago, soften as he crouches beside me. He places his other hand over my chest, and a strange, soothing heat radiates from his touch.

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