The Cerberus Unchained

The magic didn't sparkle. It snapped.

A sound like a breaking whip echoed through the courtyard. The golden light that had always faintly surrounded the brothers—the cage of their father’s making—shattered into a thousand sparks.

The Triplets screamed. It was a sound of agony, but also of sudden, violent intake of air.

The Alpha Rogue swung his sword.

But Roman wasn't there.

He moved with a speed that blurred the eye. Not the heavy, coordinated movement of the pack, but the fluid, reactive speed of a singular predator. He tackled the Alpha, shifting mid-air.

The transformation was instantaneous. Roman became a massive, midnight-black wolf.

Silas shifted next. He was a brute, larger than Roman, with fur like iron wire. He roared, slamming into the two guards, tossing them like ragdolls into the stone pillars.

Kian shifted last. He was sleek, grey and silver, faster than the others. He darted through the legs of the attackers, hamstringing them before they could draw weapons.

The bond was gone. The telepathy was gone.

But they didn't need it.

They fought not as a machine, but as a team.

Roman took the high ground, leaping onto the stone arches, identifying threats and dropping onto them from above.

Silas took the center, a whirlwind of claws and teeth, drawing the bulk of the enemy fire.

Kian took the perimeter, circling, protecting his brothers' backs, tripping enemies into Silas’s path.

It was chaotic. It was messy. It was magnificent.

Lena wasn't watching. She was fighting.

Freed from the burden of the curse, the ambient magic in the courtyard shifted. Lena pulled on it. She wove vines from the garden to snare Rogue ankles. She threw blasts of concussive force to deflect bullets.

The Alpha Rogue, bleeding and furious, charged at Roman’s wolf form. "You are nothing without the link!"

Roman didn't growl. He laughed—a huffing, wolfish sound. He sidestepped the Alpha’s clumsy strike, feinted left, and let Silas plow into the Alpha from the right like a freight train.

The Alpha hit the wall and didn't get up.

The rest of the Jersey Rogues hesitated. They looked at their fallen leader. They looked at the three massive wolves standing over him, hackles raised, teeth bared.

And they looked at the small witch standing behind them, eyes glowing green, holding a piece of rebar like a scepter.

"Leave," Roman shifted back to human form. He was naked, bloody, and terrifying. His voice carried across the courtyard, clear and singular. "Or stay and feed the garden."

The Rogues ran.