Matilde throws the spear.
I don't dodge. I step into it.
I raise my hand.
The dark energy hits my palm. It burns—cold, freezing cold—but I don't let it crush me. I grab it. I grip the intangible force like I’m gripping a live wire.
"What?" Matilde gasps, her composure fracturing.
"Return to sender," I snarl.
I channel the energy. I pull it into my core, mix it with the fire of the Wolf, and push it back out.
The shockwave explodes from my hand. It hits Matilde square in the chest.
She flies backward. She crashes onto the porch steps, the wood shattering under her impact. She looks stunned, her white coat stained with mud.
I don't give her time to recover.
I sprint.
I cross the distance in a heartbeat, my speed unnatural, fueled by the hybrid engine in my blood.
Matilde tries to scramble up, baring her fangs, hissing like a viper. She reaches for me.
I slap her hand away. I grab her by the throat.
My grip is iron. My claws dig into the pristine skin of her neck, drawing bright red blood. I lift her off her feet.
"Let go!" she chokes, clawing at my wrists. Her nails scrabble against my skin, but they don't break it. I am too dense. Too strong.
I slam her against the porch railing.
"Look around," I order, my voice dropping into that dual-tone harmonic that makes the air vibrate.
The other vampires—the Duval cousins, the scouts—have emerged from the treeline. They aren't attacking. They are watching. Their eyes are wide, tracking the violence.
"They aren't helping you," I hiss, bringing my face close to hers. "Because this is a succession challenge. And you are losing."
Matilde’s eyes dart to her kin. She sees the truth. She sees her power evaporating.
"I am the Matriarch," she screeches, thrashing. "I am the blood!"
"You're a placeholder," I say coldly. "And your shift is over."
I could kill her. I could rip her throat out right now. The Wolf wants to. The Wolf wants to taste the victory.
But death is too easy. Death makes her a martyr.
I need to break her. I need to dismantle her so thoroughly she can never run again.
I shift my grip to her jaw. I force her mouth open.
"Your power is in the bite," I whisper. "Let’s see how you rule without it."
I jam my thumb against her upper gum line.
Matilde realizes what I’m doing. Her eyes go wide with true, abject terror. She tries to scream.
