~YULIA
I saw their magic.
I could literally see the weaves of strings and patterns as they cast their spells. I could see the energy and power of their words as it crashed into Issa. I could see exactly how their magic worked.
Was this the ability that came with being a child of light? Was this why everyone wanted my blood?
Death and burnt flesh filled the air as I took in everything in my surroundings. Issa’s painful grunt as waves upon waves of magic hit him from all directions was the most vivid of everything. He was pushed onto his knees by the sheer force of magical powers coming from the remaining five witches.
The fire had gotten the girl I had knocked out cold. I knew she was dead before she had hit the ground. She was a witch but I was a full-blooded werewolf. My strength was enough to kill her. I had felt the bone in her neck snap violently from my punch.
There were five witches left and they had all focused their powers on Issa. I could numbly fill the pain he was going through because we were soul bonded. But I could feel that he was shielding me from the pain he was feeling. I could feel the warm tugging of his wolf at the back of mind and a dreadful feeling came over me.
“Stop!” I screamed at the five witches. “Whatever you are doing is not working!”
I ran towards them but their magic had created an invisible wall that knocked me back.
“Wait for your turn, Child of Light, you will experience your own pain soon enough,” one of them said as I struggled to push against the magic wall.
“That is what I am trying to tell you,” I said, straining against the wall. “Pain is what he feeds on!”
One of them sharply gazed at me as soon as she heard the strange warning. The mad cackling of deranged laughter coming from Iran broke the spell. His evil laugh only got louder as he slowly rose to his feet. I could see the magic losing effect against him as the dreadful minutes passed. Iran turned to look at me and I saw his cold red eyes gaze crazily at me. He was showing me that he was fully at the reign of control now. Issa’s forest green eyes were gone. There was only Iran, the monster.
I could not understand why I was terrified. There were three dead witches on the floor. One with a broken skull, one with a shattered jaw and on fire while the last one had slumped from the shock of being lit on fire by my power of light after she had screamed her burnt lungs out. I wanted them dead because they had taken my mother from me. So why was I afraid?
One more look into Iran’s maddened eyes gave me the answer to the question I was asking myself.
Him.
I was afraid of his unpredictable power. I was afraid of his lust for blood and pain. Once his Lycan wolf was unleashed, there was no end to his bloodshed. I had seen it once and it had traumatised me.
“Yulia,” Iran growled. “You might want to close your eyes for this one.”
I saw the maniacal gleam in his eyes as he spoke to me.
“Sisters, do not relent!” One of the sisters encouraged but it was too late.
Iran walked in a slow menacing manner towards the witches. Their spells were no longer effective. Dreadfully, I realized that this was how he faced the witches during the War of the Black Rose. This was how he survived the war. Giving this monster free reign to do as he pleased.
I watched with horror. I saw every gory little detail of what Iran did. I saw how well he enjoyed it. I watched the devil as he played with blood.
Iran lunged at the first witch and grabbed her arm before he yanked it off her body. I heard the sick ripping of flesh as the girl screamed in a heart wrenching pain. She fell and began to shake from the shock of the attack. Her eyes rolled and she began to convulse with her mouth foaming.
The second one unleashed a stream of fire at Iran. Iran’s clothes burned but his skin was unaffected. He grabbed her and bit into the side of her neck ripping out her throat. She gagged as her leg gave out. Iran kept on devouring until her head came off her shoulders.
The head rolled to my feet; the face forever frozen in the agony of death.
“Then there were three,” Iran said as he growled with glee.
His face was covered in blood that was not his own.
The remaining witches did their best. One shot a streak of lightning at Iran who jolted in shock. But that was the only thing he did.
“That tickled,” he growled and drove his claws into the chest of the girl and tore her apart.
I watched as her guts splayed all over the floor.
Now there were two left. They stood rooted to the spot in terror as it dawned on them that they were soon to meet a very horrible demise.
“Please…” One of the two pleaded as she took a step back.
Iran lunged and clapped his hands together with her head between his clawed palms. I thought of a watermelon as the girl’s head burst into pieces from the sheer power of Iran’s hands.
The last witch stood wide eyed and rigid. I believed that she was in a sort of mental shock as she watched the advancing form of Iran. She looked at me one last time before she whispered something.
Iran’s hand went through her chest and I could hear her heart burst as the monster squeezed. It was almost like how my mother was killed.
Iran was poetic with the last kill. With the witches brutally killed Iran turned to me. “Until next time, mate.”
A shudder went through him and Issa was returned to the surface again. He looked around the destruction the monster left in his wake and sighed.
And I was glad to see those emerald eyes once again.