The ground moved under me, and then I was surrounded by drifting darkness. We were inside Dante’sTwilight. A completely different forest began to appear beyond the wandering shadows, and the desperate cry of a baby echoed in my ears. Perturbed, I glanced all around me, finding Dante, and André.
Unfortunately for us, we were only spectators.
Natalia stood on the other side of the wandering shadows, in the middle of the fray, while Dresden and Anastasia suffered Arnoldt’s betrayal.
No.
She was remembering the night her parents were attacked by the Hunters.
Natasha was the crying baby.
The memories were broken and hazy, shifting with theTwilight, but my eyes snapped toward Dresden when he lunged, a full wolf, against his brother and five others. He took them head-on while the rest surrounded Anastasia—baby Natasha tightly held to her.
Anastasia’s face was softer, untouched by the harshness life had forced on her. However, her fierceness shone through as she transformed. She hissed at them, crimson darkness spreading around her eye sockets and turning her green irises into a blood-filled gaze. Her soft features hardened, fingers becoming bony claws around her baby’s tummy and thigh, and sharp fangs descended from her teeth.
Her wings burst out of her back when they lunged for her, and the next second, she was airborne.
Wolf’s jaws closed over the tip of her wing when the Hunter jumped after her, piercing the leathery membrane and stopping her. Her shriek reverberated through the night, and she spun in the air, sending him flying against a boulder. The cracking of his neck was only rivaled by her scream.
The wolf’s attack helped the others jump on her, biting and clawing at her body until they brought her down.
Anastasia crashed onto the ground, baby Natasha rolling away from her arms, but she fought with everything she had. Her claws tore at another wolf, ripping his head off, and then she cut off a limb from another, hindering their attack.
Eventually, she rushed toward her screaming baby, picking her up once more.“You are safe, Mommy is here,”she whispered, standing but more Hunters surrounded her.
“Go!”Dresden shouted, blood gurgling in his throat while six more mauled him. He’d managed to kill the others, but there were too many for him alone. His soft white coat was drenched in blood while his brother watched with a debauched look on his face.
Tears escaped Anastasia’s eyes when she saw him, but she was hurt too—her body torn and bleeding so profoundly that her venom was barely able to heal her.
Only one thing mattered, getting baby Natasha out of there.
Without hesitation, she flashed toward the tree line, trying to get lost in the dense woods because she could no longer fly. She successfully ran past the Hunters enclosing her, but unfortunately, more blocked her path along the trees.
They had prepared their attack too well.
Grabbing her arms, two of the men dragged her back to where Dresden now lay on the ground as a man. His limbs were twisted in unnatural ways while blood seeped from claw marks and bites all over him, and from a terrible gash on his throat.
He was closer to death than to life.
She hissed at them, rage masking her fear and her pain at the state of her mate. Her feet fought to anchor her to the ground, but the men were too strong, and she was too wounded.
“Give me it,”Arnoldt growled, ripping baby Natasha off her arms.
Her desperate cries pierced the night.
“You will die for this! Give me back my daughter!”Pulling strength she didn’t have, Anastasia lunged for him, freeing herself from the Hunters. Aimed to kill, her claws swiped at Arnoldt, successfully slicing through his neck… and baby Natasha’s face too.
Fuck.
“No!”she screamed in horror, watching the drops of blood stain her daughter’s fair skin while Arnoldt’s shifters captured her once more.
Her little cries became stronger, echoing through the forest and Dante’sTwilight.
The bastards viciously tossed Anastasia to the ground, their boots pressing onto her head and back to keep her down.
Recovering quickly, Arnoldt pushed a hand to his neck—his self-healing already taking care of the wound that under different circumstances should have ended his life.
“Natasha!”Anastasia cried out against the dirt, her hand still trying to reach for her daughter.
