Salome’s hands danced through the air, weaving spells that conjured fierce flames to lick at the heels of the oncoming Firstborn warriors. Their advance was halted by walls of fire that sprang from the stone floor.
“Push them a little more,” Ivar suggested. “It will give us the exit we need to the VIP cells.”
The lycan stood steadfastly behind her, his claws drawn and bloodied as he covered the witch’s back. Her magic and his might combined to form the perfect defence. With every spell she cast, they exchanged places. He parried and thrust, fending off any who dared breach the inferno she summoned.
“I can’t feel Joaquin!” Salome exclaimed. “It’s—”
“Don’t worry, we will find them anyway!” he promised.
A restless feeling tugged at Ivar’s consciousness as they carved a path toward the ce
