This time, I gather as much magic as I can, yanking it from every cell in my body.
The moment I can sense the shadow wolf phasing into semi-reality, I don't think about how my hands still can't touch it. I throw my hand forward, as far into the shadowy body as I can, feeling the chill against my skin even if its body is only as tangible as smoke.
My magic practically shrieks with joy as I let it loose in an explosion of pure chaos.
It isn't elemental. It isn't some sort of coordinated spell. It's just my magic, thrown out of my body in a violent wave, condensed to this single spot above my palm.
What happens when you try to squish that amount of power into a teeny-tiny space?
It erupts. Combusts. Detonates.
Those toxic green eyes are locked with mine in its last moments.
A visceral scream pierces the air; it isn't human or wolf, but something inhuman and shrieky, sending goosebumps along my skin.
