My fingers dig into the blood-stained soil as I claw my way along the ground.
I have to get to Peyton.
Hadrix holds her aloft, her own whip wrapped around her neck, his other arm slashing back and forth, cutting her to pieces even as she heals.
Her crimson hair is coated in blood, and her clothing is in shreds, pieces of material falling off her.
Suddenly, all I can see is the memory of her huddling against the wall of her bedroom after Raptor first attacked her. The way her blouse was cut open. The welts across her chest. One bra strap cut through. Her blood.
I will never forget my rage at that moment. And then my powerlessness that I couldn’t protect her.
Never again.
Only moments ago, my beast’s voice within my mind reminded me that, to save Peyton, I must destroy what is left of my soul.
He said,If you want her to survive, you will give up everything she wanted to give you.
All the love she wanted to give me.
I gave it up. I gaveherup. I made her hate me.
By loving her, I hurt her. She was weak because of me. Whenever I was anywhere near her—physically near her—she would lose her power and become human.
That won’t happen now.
The men behind me are so fixated on Hadrix, their faces filled with sickening glee, that they don’t seem to care that I’m crawling toward their leader.
I’m dying, and they know it. I’m no longer a threat as far as they’re concerned.
Vulture has lowered her wand. She, too, smiles at the silent bloodbath, the destruction of Peyton’s body.
Peyton can’t even scream: her breaths, horrible choking sounds.
Beast, I whisper within my mind.I need you one last time.
His response is faint and weak but perceptible:I’m here.
Closing my eyes, I call on all of my remaining strength. I tell myself I just need one last surge of energy, even if it’s the end of me.
Fire bursts to life across my chest, lines of lava forming as rapidly as my claws do while my muscles expand, my chest and shoulders broaden, and my height increases. Within my mouth, I sense my teeth sharpening and my jaw expanding. In this form, I can rip out an opponent’s throat.
I remain quiet, conserving my energy, not even uttering a snarl as I prepare to launch myself forward.
I can never make amends for my hellish choices or all the brutality I brought into Peyton’s life, but I tell myself:I will keep her alive.
Up ahead, her eyes are closing, and her head is lolling.
She’s on the verge of passing out.
The fire burning across my body becomes a streak of light around me as I launch myself upright and into a run.
I aim for Hadrix’s right side, closest to Peyton. I can’t simply knock him down, or I’ll hurt her, too. I have to make him let go of the whip he’s using to dangle her in the air.
I’m not as tall as he is in his Berserker form, but I’m a fucking survivor, and I won’t give up until I’m forced into the ground.
Fire billows around me as I crash into Hadrix. At the same moment, he swings his left arm back, preparing to drive his axe into Peyton’s chest again.
My right arm wraps around his torso, my claws driving into the space between his upper ribs. I punch my left hand forward, directly at his exposed wrist. It’s the hand with which he’s holding Peyton aloft.
