They’re using suppression fields, I note, feeling the heavy, suffocating blanket of magic they’ve thrown over the road. It’s an old, brutal tactic designed to pin a target in place by crushing their magical output. Against a normal wolf, it would induce paralysis.
Against us, it feels like walking through waist-deep water. Annoying, but manageable.
I’m pulling up, Kade says aloud, his foot easing off the accelerator.
Don’t stop, I instruct, my mind already calculating the kinetic variables. If we stop, they’ll swarm the vehicle. Keep moving. I’ll clear the blockade.
Kade doesn’t hesitate. He shifts his mental focus entirely to the engine, his foot slamming onto the gas pedal. The SUV roars, the tires spinning in the mud before catching traction. We surge forward, accelerating straight
