35 Help Arrives

James ducked to the left and turned on the evil dog and bit down on its neck, causing blood to spurt all over his brown hair.

I cringed.

The white forest then began to release waves upon waves of hyenas, intermixed with what appeared to be other wild dogs, all of them attacking James. James was holding his own, but I knew there were too many.

I ran back into the plane, the sounds of barking and growls, bones crunching and blows landing echoing throughout the vicinity.

I picked up the phone and dialled the number I had previously. I tapped my foot, my heart beating anxiously as the revolting sounds persisted.

Finally he picked up.

"Yello." He answered casually.

I sighed through my nose and rolled my eyes, "I told you to get here." I said as quietly as possible. Speaking was such a struggle; it was as though my lungs could never draw enough air.

"And I told you that help would be there."

I was about to reply when a loud howl broke out in the distance. I heard another howl near me, but it was ended with a harsh sound.

James, I realized with worry.

I was about to tell him that his help was here when my hair was pulled on roughly.

I let out a strangled sound and dropped the phone.

The attacker lowered their chin to my shoulder, their grip unrelenting on my short hair, "Thought you could save your bodyguard?" She said in a malicious tone, her voice was forced, almost as though her mouth were frothing, "I know who you are, you're that human girl that the Elf general was so interested in."

My blood ran cold.

"Well, I want Stephan to figure out what makes you so special." She growled, and elbowed my back. I fell to the floor of the plane with a sharp cry. My spine was now drifting between paralysis and feeling. The jab also didn't help the lingering ache in my ribs.

A figure appeared before me out of thin air, an eccentric looking man, his gaunt face spelled insane. I looked to the entrance, my ears still picking up the sounds of conflict.

"She doesn't look very remarkable." The man mumbled and he pinched my chin between his grubby fingers. I was tempted to bite him, but there was something… powerful ebbing from him.

He was definitely not an Elf, I looked to his ears and found that they were tipped with little knobs, not like a Fae's.

'A Pixie?' I questioned. He didn't look like any Pixie I'd ever seen, most of them were covered in warts and shorter.

"Trying to figure out what I am?" He asked, his freaky blue eyes watching me with his fingers still holding my chin.

He released my chin and began to hold up my hands, observing the creases of my palms.

"I, my dear, am a hybrid of a sort,"

'He's part Pixie and Shapeshifter.' I realized.

"I'm not part Lycan and Shapeshifter, but part Pixie and Shapeshifter." He said, stating what I'd already discovered.

"Hurry it up, Stephan. The Lycans have almost picked off our forces." The brutish woman behind me grumbled.

My hands were now tingling, but I couldn't tell if it was a sign of paralysis, or something Stephan was doing.

"Yes, yes. Magic never ends well if it is rushed, you know." He muttered unhappily, as if he wanted to spend hours observing me. I swallowed in distaste.

'But what did he mean by rushing magic?'

Before I could answer my own question his hands landed on the sides of my head and added pressure. I watched as his eyes closed and I gasped at the sudden pain in my skull.

Painful hot coals dug through my mind. I shouted in pain. It was very similar to a torture that El-kor had put me through.

It became worse and I planted my hands on his, trying to rip them off.

I yelled and whimpered in pain, the fire growing into an inferno that spread throughout my entire body; scorching my skin and burning my insides.

It abruptly stopped and I fell to the floor. I hissed through my teeth at the resonating sting that pricked my brain.

A hand pressed on my shoulder and I swiftly turned my neck. James was watching me with something like judgement behind his eyes. The Pixie hybrid was gone, the woman was dead by James's feet.

I raised myself to my knees, then shakily stood. James caught my arm when I stumbled and held me up, his grip hurt just a little.

'What? Are you angry or something?' I asked, feeling annoyed by his silent brooding.

"Is she alright?" A voice called from outside the plane.

I looked up at James and he asked with his eyes if I was, I nodded in the affirmative. Although my brain still stung like a million needles were poking it, and my spine was still not sure if it wanted to give out or not. My ribs felt bruised—as always—but this bruise resonated deeper.

"Yeah, she's fine." He called back, his deep voice not expressing the emotions in his eyes.

I took a step forward and my legs immediately went numb. I inhaled sharply and closed my eyes but I never felt the impact of my body colliding with the floor.

I blinked my eyes open and saw that I was floating just a foot from it though. An arm was wrapped around my waist. James pulled me up to stand and I found that I still couldn't.

"Can you walk? Is it the paralysis thing?"

I was tempted to raise my brow at that phrasing, but instead I nodded.

He let out an exasperated huff and picked me up. He stepped out of the plane and I wrapped my coat closer around me. The wind was still chilling and it wasn't quite warm enough.

"What's wrong with her?" A voice asked.

James grunted as if saying, 'I wish I knew.'

I looked to where the voice had come from, a tall man stood there clothed only in a pair of boxers, on his bare chest was a rather nasty scar. James still had his clothes on, I could see the silver chain beneath his black shirt. I looked back to the man that had spoken.

I recognized him.

When James reached the ground and began walking towards the man he crossed his arms over his chiselled but scarred chest, "Are you not going to answer me?"

He exuded confidence, and anger.

"No." James answered in a deadly tone as he walked past the man and a few others. Some were naked, others had minimal clothing on. I couldn't believe they were able to stand the freezing temperature.

I was surprised that he would say no. But it was almost comforting that he would. Almost.

"Who sent you?" James asked. I looked at his eyes, they were hard as rock.

"You know who sent us." The man stated, his eyes narrowing.

"No, I don't." James bit out.

The man sighed in impatience and spread his arm out, "She called Alpha Kratos," He nodded to me, "And he sent us. I'm Beta Shore."

I felt James stiffen and I kept my gaze level on the Beta. So he was Kratos's Beta? I remember pulling an enchanted spearhead out of that chest.