The witches from both sides lunged at us. A witch in front was flung back by a defector, and vice versa.
The battlefield turned into pure madness. Fireballs burst against the ground and the trees went up in flames that reached for the sky. Dark tendrils ripped through the earth and twisted like snakes as they tried to drag each other down.
The air was heavy with ashes and the metallic smell of blood, and every sound was either a scream or an explosion.
I staggered back, choking on the thick air, my eyes burning as sparks flew past my face. The barrier around us shook violently like it was going to shatter at any second.
"Stay close!" Damon's voice was rough and commanding. His claws were out and his shoulders were braced as though he alone could hold back the storm. His eyes glowed with that furious silver glint and every muscle in him looked ready to tear apart anyone who came near.
