He was wind and wrath.

Fire and Fury.

He was weightless, his massive body soaring through space and time and color-- but, the heavy burden of the gods weighed him down, pressing down on the organ pulsing in his chest, pumping to each beat of his prey's magic.

He had become something he didn't recognize. He was driven by the instinct and raw need barreling through his blood, clawing at his soul with razor-sharp claws. He had been angry before, especially as they got closer to the coven grounds, but nothing came close to the emotion that was now clouding his brain and eyes...

Washing the world in an endless sea of red.

Just like the blood that had poured from his mate's mouth and nose; just like the blood that he had drawn in his effort to reach her... to protect her.

Just like the blood that was going to spew out of the witch's neck when his teeth and claws found purchase in her flesh.

Finnian's body slammed into air as solid as a boulder-- the sickening thud radiating through the atmosphere, causing a ringing sound to settle just beyond his eardrums.

The force of the Bruja's shield was so powerful, that it had sent him flying straight back into the trees surrounding the clearing.

His body rolled and twisted, kicking up vegetation and rocks and saplings as he went.

Finnian was weightless once again, floating through time itself as the magic of Belladonna's shield rampaged through him, traveling along every vein and nerve, reaching from the tip of his snout, down to the longest strand of fur on the end of his tail.

As his body was thrown back as easily as a rag doll's, he caught glimpse of the others, all being either thrown back too, or stalking around the shield with a predator's gait, jowls pulling back in menace.

"ARROOOOO!" Finnian howled out as he came to an abrupt stop, his spine connecting with the truck of a large, unforgiving tree.

The large brown wolf dropped like a rock, limbs twitching from the onslaught of Belladonna's ancient magic.

He tried to get up, to untangle his legs... to get them under his tingling body so that he could help the others.

But he couldn't move.

No matter how hard he tried to move them-- to force them to move, they just laid there, rendering him immobile.

He growled, his ears flicking back to press against his skull as his anger came to a boiling point-- threatening to overflow, and burn everything and everyone around him.

Ivory white canines flashed in the light, their surfaces glistening with saliva and the promise of violence.

He lurched himself forward, desperately trying to get his paws underneath him so that he could return to the others... to return to that damned witch that was going to experience his wrath first hand.

'Get up get up get up get up!' Finnian snarled as he threw himself backward, trying to get away from the tree that had nearly snapped his spine in half.

But his limbs were still laying useless, the bottom of his paws coated in scrapes, cuts, and pieces of rock.

The metallic scent of blood oozed from a wound to his hind paw; and, as he looked closer, he saw the culprit.

A jagged piece of rock had embedded itself in his paw pad, it's dusky surface darkened by his blood.

But he couldn't feel it.

The adrenaline pumping through his body had taken away every ounce of pain, and had replaced it with an endless stream of emotion so strong, that Finnian didn't know where it started and he began.

'How long is this going to last?!' He spat.

Throwing his head over his shoulder, his glowing eyes widened with shock.

Where were all of the others?!

"Is that all you have?" Belladonna howled with laughter, her arms separated with triumph, her palms extended toward the blue sky.

His eyes narrowed as a thought crept into his mind, creeping over his frantic wolf with hooked threads of darkness.

Yes... that could be a possibility.

Belladonna had cast that spell when everyone had been in their wolf skin. Had she covered all of her bases-- including their skin side?

Thinking back to the Bruja moments before, Finnian nearly smiled along to the witch's triumph... but with one of his own.

It had taken the Bruja at least a minute to cast that shield...

And Finnian had always been a fast wolf.

With a determined snarl, he forced the thought onto his wolf, but he didn't wait another moment.

It was this or nothing at all.

He shifted.

????

Gene Smith, the doctor that the alphas had assigned to watch over their daughter, gasped, his face going pale as he watched the young male's fist connect with Belladonna's face.

Crunch!

"You son of Celena!" Belladonna roared as his fist slammed into her face, his knuckles catching her perfect, straight nose.

The witch stumbled back, her feet moving so fast over the ground, that Gene was certain that she would've tripped over her long, flowing black dress.

But, instead of tripping over the dress, flames as black as night itself burst to life, engulfing her feet and licking up her bare, white legs until they halted at her knees.

Wisps of steam came to life, weaving up through the grass surrounding the matron.

Belladonna scowled at the male, her snow-white face twisting into a look of pure wickedness.

Gene cursed.

They all had to get out of here, right now.

Because, instead of the dark eyes that the Matron had once had, they were no more. Two balls of fiery ember had taken their place, blazing red threads clawing up Belladonna's dark eyebrows.

Her blood-red lips curled into a serpent's smile, teeth a little too sharp to be humans, revealing themselves.

Finnian's muscular chest heaved as he retreated, a smirk of his own finding its way across his face.

"I am going to kill you, mutt." Belladonna purred, the fire in her eyes, and around her feet and hands, brightening.

Gene shook his head in shock when the male's smile widened, a dimple appearing in his cheek.

"Get in line, sweetie. You are not the first to make that claim, and definitely not the last." And, with that, Finnian lunged forward once more, preparing to connect his fist once again to her face.

But Belladonna had been anticipating that with a punch of her own...Finnian body was flung back with a boom as loud and powerful as a clap of thunder. He soared through the sky, his massive body flipping and twisting uncontrollably as whatever magic Belladonna had used, rammed into his body.

The dark-eyed male nearly slammed face-first into the earth, but it wasn't the fall that nearly had the doctor giving up his position by the van.

No.

Finnian wasn't moving.

And, as he lay on his stomach, his body limp and covered in mud, Gene saw it.

Smoke swirled from the male's lower back, right over his spine; the black wisps twisting and curling in time to the steps of the Matron.

And, as he looked closer, his eyes straining, he saw the exit... wound.

It was as if the Matron's magic... had been a bullet; fired by a shotgun of fire and darkness.

And the exit wound was no real wound, either.

It was a patch of black fried flesh, standing stark against his flawless, tan skin.

And it was the size of a quarter.

'If the exit wound is this big...' Gene thought, his throat swallowing with force. 'How big are the internal injuries? The entrance wound?'

Belladonna advanced, her hips swaying with each graceful step."What a shame." Belladonna sighed, shaking her head slowly. "You really were a nice male to look at. Quite easy on the eyes."

The fire in her eyes still rippled, the red flames the only color other than her black dress and white skin.

She was dangerous... a danger that had the ability to crush courts and level kingdoms.

Belladonna crouched low, balancing on her heels as she reached out and fisted Finnian's hair, yanking his head back until his face was completely visible.

Dark eyes burning with hatred met the Bruja's fiery ones, his jaw so tightly clenched, that the muscle there trembled from the strain.

Out of the corner of his eye, shadows lurked, eyes glowing with emotion as they bided their time, preparing to strike.

Belladonna lowered her head, whispering something into Finnian's ear, her lips brushing the shell of his ear...

One moment, Belladonna had been whispering into Finnian's ear, and, the next, she was thrown onto her back, clutching her nose.

Or the place where her nose should have been.

Finnian had lunged up when her diminishing shield had weakened, and, using the sharp teeth that he had been born with, tore into her face.

The paralyzed male fell back onto his chest, spitting out Belladonna's bloodied nose out into the woods before him.

The smoke emitting from his back whirled, the black substance seeming to pulse with a life of its own.

The wolves waiting in the forest lunged, covering the witch in a mass of canines and claws.

Scrambling from his position behind a cabin, preparing to hurry to Finnian's aid, Gene turned one last time to make sure that Adeline was still breathing.

Where there had once been an open van door, allowing him to easily look at Adeline to make sure that she was still breathing, there was now something much more worrying.

As the screams and wails of Belladonna rang out, and the sounds of Finnian trying to drag himself back to the vans-- back to where Adeline was, Gene was greeted by the sight of a wolf with crazed blue eyes.

And she was staring straight at him.