39
ROWEN
My throat burns like fire when I swallow. Every breath comes out a rasp. Every movement reminds me of Tobias’s hands around my neck, his panic, his strength. I can still feel it. The press of his fingers, the flash of hate in his eyes before he realized what he was doing.
But there’s no time to think about that now.
The pack’s alarm hits like a physical thing, slamming through me in waves of adrenaline and fury. Even in human form, I feel it—the collective snap, the crack of power rippling through the clearing. Someone yells my name from downstairs, and before I can think twice about it, I’m moving.
Evelyn takes a crying Aster upstairs while the rest of us go outside. The porch thunders under my feet as I leap from it, shifting midair. My paws hit the ground hard, and a snarl rips from me when I pick up the sharp scent of oil and copper.
Vampires.
There are eight of them in the middle of the clearing. At the center, one mage with streaked red hair and ruby eyes. His long black cloak billows behind him, hands glowing bright red.
Orem.
I’ve only seen pictures of the mage, yet the man is everything I thought he would be. Deadly. Powerful. Persuasive.
And he’s here threatening my family.
I scan the lineup, counting three female vampires and two males. The others, I’m not sure. I don’t recognize any of them, which means I don’t know what their vampire gifts are.
Where are Foxx and Rip?I say through our pack link. I quickly scan the field, my heart plummeting when I don’t see my mate.And where’s Tobias?
He ran off through the trees,Mom says.
He what?!
Focus, Rowen!Forest snarls.
The pack spreads out, teeth bared and ears pinned back. Jericho stands in the middle, holding two fireballs. Evan is braced beside him, his gun ready. On the opposite end of the field, Kaine steps out of the trees, his fingers curved toward the ground as if calling water. Willow flanks him, eyes sharp and fangs deadly.
All around, from every corner of the yard, wolves creep forward. Every shade, every size. There are over eighty of us, against nine of them.
The air hums as if waiting.
Orem lifts his head, his mouth twisting into a sick version of a smile. “We don’t want a massacre.” His voice carries easily on the night air. “Give us Jericho and Tobias, and no one gets hurt.”
A growl rises in my chest before I can stop it. Lying bastard. Hurting others is all these people are capable of.
Neal and Taren prowl closer, lips curled.
“We know the human is here,” Orem says. “Call him out or we will.”
He must still think Toby is in the house, then. I can only hope he keeps running. But seriously, where is Rip?
Subtly, I tip my nose to the sky. Our two hawk allies circle overhead, but no ravens. They have to be close, though. Rip wouldn’t miss his chance to get Tobias.
Jericho steps forward, rolling a fireball in his palm. “You have no claim over us.”
Orem laughs. “That’s where you’re wrong, vampire.”
Jericho throws a fireball, which Orem quickly blocks. It careens left, smashing into a tree. The ground seems to shake as he shouts something, and the clearing explodes into chaos.
Two vampires blur forward—twice as fast as normal vampires. They streak through the smoke like ghosts. The wolves surge to meet them, colliding in a mix of claws, teeth, and blood. Snarls and screams pierce the night. Flashes of red and golden fire streak everywhere like dangerous strobe lights, singeing trees and narrowly avoiding the house.
I dive into the fray. My jaws find flesh on the first vampire, and the taste is bitter and metallic. The woman thrashes against me, digging her sharp nails into my pelt, but I bite deeper, feeling bone give beneath my teeth. Another slams into my side, sending me tumbling. I roll and lunge again, ripping through a vampire’s leg.
