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Not Donahue. Not Camila. Not one of the core wolves in that meeting room.

Violet.

Sweet, bright, breakable Violet, who looked at Lexi like she hung the moon and then handed Ramsey the sky because he threatened to tear it down.

I keep my face still.

I force myself to keep breathing.

And I do my best to keep pretending there isn’t a scream clawing its way up my throat.

Ramsey sighs. “I said I wouldn’t hurt her if she stopped being a problem.”

Violet shakes her head. “No.”

The word is small, but it lands.

Davina’s attention sharpens.

Ramsey’s does too.

“No?” he asks softly.

Violet takes one step back, clutching the half-wrapped blade to her chest. “I won’t give it to you. Not if you’re still going to kill her.”

Ramsey’s smile fades.

Davina moves first. One second, the hex witch is beside him. The next, she’s in front of Violet, her hand locked around Violet’s wrist with enough force that Violet gasps and drops to one knee.

“Careful,” Davina says. “You have no idea what kind of power you’re holding. And you’re certainly not powerful enough to use it against me.”

I stand there in my counterfeit obedience and let my face stay blank while my wolf hurls herself against the inside of my skin.

Davina peels Violet’s fingers open one by one. The last one, she peels farther back than it needs to go. There’s a soft pop.

Violet makes a broken sound, but she somehow manages to keep hold of the blade. “Please. Don’t. Lexi⁠—”

“Pleading doesn’t open cages,” Davina says.

Dark magic flashes at her fingertips.

Violet’s eyes roll back. She crumples into the grass.

The blade drops, but Davina catches it before it can hit the ground. She unwraps it slowly, reverently, until the metal catches the morning light and hums with a potent old magic that makes my wolf want to bow in reverence.

Ramsey exhales like every piece has finally clicked into place.

“There,” he says. “See? I told you I’d get your prize, darling. Now we can begin.”

He looks at Nash and then back at me, something calculating moving behind his eyes.

“You two are going to be useful,” he says.

In my peripheral vision, Nash doesn’t react, even with Violet unconscious in the grass twenty feet away. His eyes have tracked to Ramsey with easy attention, cooperative and unconcerned.

Somewhere beyond the eastern gate, I can hear the distant sound of the chase: paws on earth, predators crashing through underbrush, and I know Grey and Lexi are fast and smart and buying me as much time as they can. Their sacrifice isn’t something I want to waste.

I keep my eyes on Ramsey, and I breathe, and I wait.