Page 102

And something, down deep, that rattled me. Reminded me of something.

Rage flared suddenly and absolutely. My blood boiled so fast my pulse couldn’t keep up.

She wasmine. Ours.Mine.

I moved faster—still trying not to make noise—but I could already feel the rage taking over. My fangs ached. My hands curled into claws. My blood felt like it was boiling. Pure heat in my veins.

I sprinted, cleared the rail in one leap, and hit the deck with a thud that rattled the boards.

And then I heard her.

Screaming.

And I felt her.

Terrified.

Something broke inside me.

I didn’t think.

I didn’t breathe.

I was on the stairs.

I was at the bottom.

I was in the room.

They had her.

They were tearing Anton’s shirt off her body like she was a carcass being flayed open for scraps.

I lost it.

There was no strategy. No thought. No warning.

I killed.

The first one didn’t even see me—his neck snapped before his eyes registered movement.

The second turned just in time to scream. I ripped him open—hands, fangs, blood—until he stopped moving.

The one holding her took more effort. He fought back. That made it worse for him.

He fought back with a smile on his face as I snapped his forearm.

He went down hard.

Then there was just Rowena.

And one last figure, hunched in the corner, twitching beneath a pillow. Sobbing. Then giggling. Then sobbing again.

Bloodroot.

That was what I’d smelled on them earlier. Bloodroot. Native to the Western Pines. I hadn’t seen it since… not since I’d been human.

It had to be bloodroot. Her pupils were blown, her hands twitching.