Covering my ears, the books explode all around as the bullets rip through them. A stray snags the corner of my arm, and I tuck closer to her.

"Hold on!" I breathe, holding out my hand and pulling a surge of wind through the air vent and into the bookshelves. With a shove, they fly across the store and into the window.

"Shit!!" Marisol yells, grabbing my arm and yanking me out the rear door. We run down the back alley, and the shop erupts into flames; the explosion throws us to our knees, and I reach out to shield her and the baby. "I'm fine, let's go! We have to move!"

Like our lives depended on it, we skirt down the alleyway and break out onto the busy street. Pausing to catch her breath, pressing her hand to her belly, Marisol grits her teeth, flinching. "You're not fine!" I tell her firmly. "I know you think you can do these things, but this is insane. They're probably after me. Go get Verando-"

The bricks pop overhead, and I yank her back into the alleyway. Extending my fingers, I burst the top off a fire hydrant and aim the spray in the direction of the gunman.

"And leave you blind? Not a chance. There!" I follow her eyes, a trick Verando taught me, and blow the dark figure off a fire escape only to freeze them to the ground. "They look human. They're not mutants?"

"Yet." I spit, hearing the hum of a car and seeing the flash of headlights as the aged vehicle flies across traffic towards us. Aiming the water towards it, I freeze the street as cars screech, squealing across the surface while trying to find traction.

"We can't stay here." But we can't run.

Jutting my fist up, I flip the aged vehicle as people pour out of it, forming an ice barrier. The bullets chip off, ricocheting into nearby brick buildings, causing our assailants to duck for cover from their own fire. As they close in, encircling the barrier like ants, I become increasingly aware that Marisol would need protection more than she could protect me. 

 "Damn it!"

We're trapped. I can't leave her or get to a higher vantage point without exposing her. 

"Can you phase?" I ask her over the cracking of the ice shield, covering her with my body. 

"And do what? They have guns." Marisol retorts, pulling a gun off her own hip to shoot overhead at a lycra figure. They fall to the ground, and she shoots them in the head before rummaging through the objects on their person. 

"It's a government badge..." She murmurs, holding the glittering metal pin in her palm. 

Am I being excommunicated for the second time? 

My body begins to tingle, and water rises up and over the edge of my ice barrier. Slinging my hand, freezing it, I force it back toward the barrage of screams of those below who are crushed beneath the ice shelf. 

"I'll give you one idea who is behind this." 

Marisol shoots once more up the stairwell, pressing her back to mine. We're pinned down, and with only so many bullets, we would have to find a way to break loose sooner rather than later. 

"Call Verando." 

I grip all over my body, but my phone is gone; I must have dropped it in the bookstore. She reads my face and checks over her body as well before cursing out loud, kicking the dead body. 

"Damn it! Mine, too. And the damned keys." 

When situations look hopeless, that's where I was trained to thrive. I was born under pressure, and I've been in worse situations before.

 I can handle this. 

"Keep an eye out behind us, let me know if we're getting overwhelmed. We can't call him, but I'm connected to the wolf. Alpha will feel this, and he will come for us. Until then, I've just got to keep us alive." 

Forming a ramp out of the ice, I climb the height of the barrier and peer over the edge. Damage control meant not killing anyone if I could help it. With a blast of wind, the officials were swept off their feet, and as they fumbled, toppling over like mannequins rather than mortals, I hesitated.

Their eyes are fixed on the barrier, it was as if they didn't even acknowledge that I had exposed myself. Gunshots ring out behind me, and I watch the men fall off the fire escape. 

It was as if they were charmed.

I'd made a fatal flaw, I'd taken my eyes off my opponent. I can feel the surge before I see it, a gust of wind hits me in the back, sending me careening off the ramp. At the last minute, I direct the gust below me and manage to cushion the blow, hovering above the asphalt before settling on my hands and knees.

"Red."

Marisol's shoulders go rigid. "That's the one everyone's talking about?"

I nod, not having to say anymore. She snarls low in her throat, while I shake my head, warning her with my eyes. 

"We can't get angry, not here. These officials seem almost mindless, which means this could easily be a staged event to make us look ruthless. My sister did something similar in our own time. When I knock them over, they shoot mindlessly. Maybe we can use their state to our advantage? No matter what, we can't be seen killing these officials. I think we sneak around the back, at the very least, get you the hell out of here so I can find her."

Not wasting any time, we move as silently as possible, rounding a corner to the other side of the busy alley. "Keep your eyes open, smell for burning atmosphere."

"I'm not a tracker, Nic. Kind of a racist thing to say..."

"Soli, please, just try," I murmur.

Am I that spoiled with my warlord? 

It seemed as if every wolf I confronted was offended by this request, save for him. He prided himself on his ability to track, although I do remember him saying that it was a skill he had to hone.

Sota had taught him when he was young, and so, he had taught others. "I'm not trying to be offensive, I'm just so used to Verando... I forget that not everyone--"

 My body feels like it's been struck by lightning. 

I drop to my knees, unable to scream, unable to fight back. Marisol wheels around to come to my aid, my lips part, but nothing comes out as someone wraps their arms around her from behind.

I fight against the pain of the electrocution coursing through my muscles, static dancing over my skin as a friendly reminder that I'd been struck. Trying to find any way to make the pain stop, screaming in my head for Alpha, my body threatens to shut off—a defense mechanism, a natural response to something that excruciating that I couldn't fathom continuing.

Suddenly, I feel warmth touching my arm as energy surges through my body, removing the charge like magical whiplash, much as I had done to Corina. As I glance up, I'm met with startling eyes that shimmer white hot as if they were made of voltage themselves. 

The man pulls the hood back over his head, retracting his shimmering hand. 

"Can you move?" He asks. 

I blink wildly at him, trying to come to terms with a man I didn't know saving me. Marisol's captor lay unconscious on the floor, beneath the boot of the woman wearing a lycra bodysuit and the large cloak, the female who had shot Verando. Closing my fist, yanking the very pipes from the ground, I blast her with water. 

She throws her hands up quickly, barely deflecting it before being overwhelmed. 

"Get away from her!" I demand, rushing for my friend as the woman tries to right herself. The man puts up his hands. 

"We're trying to help. Please, there isn't much time, Nicolas."

"How do you know my name?!" I hold the water in my hand, forming a long, pointed rod, when suddenly the ice melts and splatters on the floor. 

The cloaked woman is behind us, her hands raised. 

"We are friends." 

These two, were they the twins Verando had been speaking of? 

Bullets rain down on us, and she slings her cloak upward; it deflects the projectiles as if the sheet were made of metal. Touching her belt, she murmurs something in a language I almost recognize. 

Two more cloaked figures appear; modern-day archers launch a barrage of arrows overhead, though these have blunted tips that seem to disable their victims rather than kill them. 

"Come on. Please. We need The Good King."

Marisol grips my arm, clutching her stomach. "We have to go." She manages through her teeth, my mind drifts to if Verando would ever forgive me if something happened to her on my watch. It was up to me to decide, and while I hesitated, contemplating making another run for it, Marisol's state suggested we were on borrowed time for her tolerance. 

Going with these people was incredibly foolish, but it seemed to be the only option.

 I support her as I follow after the male. He tosses his cloak over me, guarding my hair, no doubt. A large car pulls up, and the doors swing open. I'm prepared to attack, but he shoves my head down and pushes me inside, followed by Marisol, before climbing into it himself along with the female. 

"Keep 'em busy, Aego." He shouts as he slams the door. The pair bolts towards the fray of agents, and my eyes widen as I feel the ground around us start to rumble. 

Red. She knows we are getting away. 

"Sunroof," I demand. 

"What?"

"Sunroof! Open your damn sunroof!" 

Obediently, the driver presses a button, and I stand on the seat, forcing my way through and cursing at myself for my own stupidity. 

The ground trembles, rumbling as the street begins to crack, the asphalt separates and groans as cars fall into the crater created by a woman scorned. 

Pipes screech and moan as they're lifted from the very earth, and buildings begin to quiver as their structures are threatened. My eyes widen, taking in the growing darkness of a building leaning in for a closer look.  

A massive wave of water rounds the corner, shaking me to my core. She had gotten stronger,  more potent in her depravity. 

Magic like this came at a cost. 

The building pops, deafening us as glass shatters and supports give way. "Drive!" I demand. 

The male crawls between my legs to press his hand to the dashboard and boost the electric engine. The car roars to life, surging forward at a pace that makes the driver scramble to keep us upright. The wave is too controlled; it rolls through the city like a serpent, threatening to overwhelm us.

 I raise my hands, pushing against it and setting up a barrier. All around us, people scream, scrambling as the building begins to lumber over the street. I redirect the wave, pinning it against the structure in an attempt to right it, yet I feel as though there's a pull. 

 Red's fighting me, pulling back on the other end of the rope. 

I can't let her do this.

 I can't let her destroy the city. 

My body begins to shiver from the chill as I freeze the water as fast as I can while trying to yank it away. I could deflect it, or I could hold my ground and continue using it to support the building, a fleeting suggestion as glass pops and explodes. 

People are going to die, hundreds, thousands. 

The pipes twist and jerk, smashing asphalt all around as water is stripped from them. I can't do it all, I can't control it, I'm not strong enough. 

Closing my eyes, I call him once more, and I can feel the response.

 When I open them, I see through Alpha's eyes; I feel the anger and the heat threatening to overwhelm me.  

With newfound eyes, I track the pull of energy, spotting the directional force; my father's book flashes before my mind. 

Push back, give it back to her. 

With a yell, I muster all my focus and use the water as a current, shoving back and following that pull to find her. If she wants to have it, she can take it all. It works like a whip; the force is so immense that the water spirals into a funnel, and I flinch, covering my ears at the loud crack of the connection as it meets her. 

The wave drops, and the building threatens to follow. I force my fist into the air, and with wind and water, I shove the great wave up its length and feel as though the air is leaving my lungs as I reach the height of the building. The groaning and popping begin to settle to a timid shiver; this would give them enough time, and this would let as many as can escape the opportunity.

 The light begins to flicker, overusing, I've drawn too much. I let go of it, conscious of the fading light as I drop into the car in a heap. 

Marisol clutches me to her chest as the driver closes the sunroof and the ice shelf shatters. Everything goes black as the building collapses onto the street below, engulfing us in a cloud of dust and debris. 

_________________________________________________

When I open my eyes, I can't help but wonder if I'm dead. 

 But, as I pat all over my body, I sit up from the hard floor and realize people surround me. Hands hover over me, and I hear someone murmuring. My body feels warm, almost too warm, and the lack of pain is so refreshing I can practically taste it on my tongue. 

A healer. 

A deeply tanned woman with dark almond eyes and long black hair sits before me, on her knees as she gauges my expression and sanity after so much use. "You're a healer."

She smiles. "I am."

Without thinking, my hand juts forward to cup her cheek, testing it for myself. 

Can she be real? 

The whole room leaps to action, and I realize we're surrounded. She raises her hand. 

"He won't hurt me. He has a good heart. He's The Good King."

I haven't heard that in almost a year. My eyes scan the room; it's dark and shabby, with no furniture, and the windows are blacked out. 

"Where are we?"

"The Dead City." She tells me gently, taking my face in her hands; she kisses me so passionately that I'm entirely taken off guard. I jerk back, covering my mouth with my hand, and she smiles. "I think you'll find that your injuries are healed."

"I don't want to hear it from you. She kissed me, too." Marisol spits. 

The man from the car steps forward, "That's how Sef does a body scan, it's a bit unorthodox, but she's pretty remarkable. I'm Grayson." He kneels before me. "Sir, it's an honor to meet you finally." 

Yet, when I scan the room, it looks as though everyone is utterly terrified of me. The room is completely silent save for Grayson. 

He follows my eyes and laughs nervously, "You must excuse them, Sir. They just watched the city crumble, and you turned a tsunami into an ice shelf. That was... we've only read about power like that."

I perk up instantly, standing and flexing my hands and fingers-- completely revitalized. If I'm alive, he must be alive.

 So he didn't die this time? Why did it feel so good? 

I felt incredibly powerful, as if I could do anything. 

"We?" I ask. "What is the Dead City, Grayson?"

He gestures to the group around us. "This is just a small part, but we are some of the last magic users; we traveled from all over the world to come here when we heard there was a plan to bring you back. A woman with white hair has scoured the earth researching your whereabouts and what happened to you when you died that sorrowful day. 

Rumors spread that they might be planning something. When Mistress Corina, a Solomonari bearing the name of your dead sister, appeared on the doorstep of the world, we had all begun to grow suspicious. We moved to the desert, and slowly, others began to grow curious and move here as well. 

There were so few of us left, it just felt safer to group together, so we stayed, and when that white haired woman disappeared, we could only hope she had been successful."

These people knew all about me, yet here before me, they still looked so frightened. A man comes forward, grabbing Grayson's arm. 

"But you have brought death to our doorstep! I can't believe you thought to bring him here." 

I'm taken aback, Grayson's sister frowns. He lifts his hand to soothe me and glares towards the man. 

"What would you rather I do, Hank? Leave him on the street after all he's done? Let her kill him?"

The man points a fat, dirty finger at Marisol. "She's pregnant." Then he points at me. "And you have the one thing he told us not to have. He will kill us all." 

I take a step forward, and everyone takes a massive step back, including Grayson.

"He? What are you talking about?"

"That fucking lycan," Hank shouts at me. 

Marisol snorts, amused. "Are you serious? My god, that's a hell of a reputation. Gods, I love that man. The infamous Alpha, four hundred years in the future, and they quake in their boots. Look at them, it's delicious." She purrs, appreciative of my warlord. "It kind of turns me on." She murmurs to me, joking, but I'm unable to find her humor.

 No one else is laughing; their eyes are stricken in fear. 

Grayson gestures to a slender man, "Would you mind, Jed?" He nods, and suddenly, I feel very calm; blinking through the stupor, I can't help but grin like an idiot.

 He can influence people's emotions, including my own. 

My people, these people, magic users. 

"Mr.Mercer has quite the temper, and we were instructed to stay far away from you. He doesn't trust us, you see."

"Of course not; magic users cursed his entire race." Marisol spits.

But they don't see it that way because that is not how history told it. We had read the books, and the web they wove painted me as a war hero and the Lycan army as a necessary evil with a bloodthirsty warlord at their head. They would have no way of knowing that we were together, though now it was probably public knowledge, given that he seems to make a point of telling everyone. 

What seemed most prominent was the emotional scars left by my, at times, intimidating fiancé.

I purse my lips; maybe I could use this to my advantage. 

"But, you have a right to be concerned; I'm sure you know his reputation. I need to know as much about this place as I can before he arrives because, rest assured, he will find me. Best start building a case for your benefit now; what was your name again?" I need to gain as much knowledge as possible, without the heavy burden of formalities and starstruck patrons. 

The man bows before me, "Grayson, Sir. It'd be an honor to tell you about our community."