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muscles turned to liquid, causing me to slump down on the grass. I held a palm to my chest, trying to ease the pain that suddenly gripped me. Too real. This was too real. My nightmares didn’t compare to the power of the malachim. At least in my dreams, the visions had been softened by my subconscious trying to protect me.

This thing the malachim had conjured up was not blurred by sleep. The image was sharpened by the continued sound of a growl rattling in his chest, and stark hunger in his eyes as they locked on me.

Just like in my nightmares, my body wouldn’t cooperate when the malachim mounted their attack. Silver spines the length of an angel blade appeared in the grip of the remaining malachim. They surged forwards, their gargled cries laced with anticipatory glee. I screamed for real this time. Every piece of anguish that I’d held trapped inside me for months at the thought of Max dying escaped in a shrill alarm that had his head snapping up.

Everything slowed in direct opposition to the unrepentant beat of my heart in my throat. The malachim on Max’s left raised its arm. The silver spine sliced through the air so quickly it was a blur. I waited for it, knowing what would happen next but unprepared at the same time.

And then something worse occurred. Max’s arm whipped out, snagging the malachim by the throat even though it wasn’t corporeal. His touch turned its foggy body to flesh. The malachim gave an unearthly moan. Its other arm tried to gouge a hole in Max’s chest. He blocked it with his free arm, eyes never leaving my face. His lips pulled back into a predatory grin at the same time his clawed hands crushed.

The snapping of bone and tearing of flesh reverberated through my ears like the death knell of a cathedral bell.

Real. Actually real. No.

Max snapped the malachim’s neck in the time it took me to blink. The impossibility of it didn’t even occur to me because all I could think was that I needed to run. Andrei had the same idea. Staggering to his feet as the remaining malachim converged on Max, Andrei attempted to reach me. I held out my arm, ready to grab his hand and teleport, when something slammed into his side and pushed him away. A flash of white-blonde hair sailed across my vision before something grabbed me by the upper arm and dragged me backwards. I struggled in the vise grip of the amber-eyed shifter who held me like a rag doll. In human form, I didn’t recognise him. There had been news that the Reserve was populated by shifters from many of the outlying packs, but I hadn’t let myself dwell on that possibility.

“Let go!” I pleaded.

The shifter didn’t say a word. Neither did he loosen his grip. Kicking out, I tried to hammer my foot into his thigh. I knew I had given my leg the command to kick but all that happened was it moved a little. I was completely tapped out. A flash of white teeth was all I got in response. The shifter pulled me well away from the perimeter of danger.

Andrei’s vampiric snarl dragged my attention towards him in time to watch the Blonde Shifter plant her fist in his face. Normally he could have taken a hit like and come back for much more. But prolonged contact with the malachim had taken its toll. Andrei’s head snapped to the side and his eyes rolled back in his head.

“Search him,” the Blonde Shifter ordered.

“Leave him alone!” I shouted. Even though it was useless, I struggled against my captor. The Blonde Shifter’s ice-blue eyes skewered me. Where the malachim looked at me with a general kind of malice, the way her eyes narrowed and her nose scrunched as she peered at me was distinctly personal. I tried not to take it as such. After what I’d done, most of the shifters should despise me.

“If she keeps bleating, knock her out,” Blonde Shifter spat.

The vehemence in it stopped me cold. All around us, bright bursts of gold bloomed in the sky as Nephilim and First Order mages finally arrived. They clashed with the malachim. The mages crouched down in the grass to reinforce the Angelical wards that would throw the malachim back into the chasm from which they had arrived.

Seeing that Max was no longer in immediate danger, I continued bleating. “Can you please at least let me see if my friend is hurt?” I asked the shifter holding me.

“I don’t take orders from you,” was the curt reply. Orders? Where in the world had that come from?

“Please?”

He shook me. Hard enough that it rattled my teeth. “You heard what she said. One more word and you’ll be taking a little sleep.”

Dumbfounded, I stared into his now deep-set brown eyes. Looking back at me was a creature devoid of any sympathy. My mouth opened, and the pressure of his hand on my arms cinched tighter. There was no doubt that if I disobeyed, he would carry out his threat. Part of me wanted to snap my teeth around his nose and tear it off his face just to see how he would react. That fantasy was shoved down by the logic that always held me in check. What would be the point in antagonising him further?

The reason I was upset in the first place let out a groan. My muscles relaxed a little. Before I could turn my head and see whether Andrei was alright, a stunning being in golden Fae armour appeared in front of me.

Uh oh. The last time I’d seen him, Angus had been a speck above the soul gate. My eyes cast downwards out of sheer disbelief that someone so graceful could tear into a demon with such vengeful hate.

“Sophie,” he said in that brooding voice that somehow managed to be lyrical at the same time. For sure he had been Fae royalty at

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