My insides turn to ice. “My mother died of illness.”

“No. She was murdered.” He laughs coldly. “Oh, didn’t you know?”

A battle rages inside me, as vicious as the one I can hear in the distance. The demand for answers fights the demand for blood. “What are you talking about?”

“Your father arranged it. A very. . . particular. . . poison.” The bright moonlight that streams through the carriage windows highlights the glee in his expression, and I know he is telling the truth.

I feel as if the world is shattering around me. My father was never kind to my mother. He viewed her as a possession rather than a person—just as he views me. The thought that he killed her makes me feel as if I’ve swallowed the Northland winds that rattle the carriage. They rage in my chest, and I can barely contain them.

For so many years I desired his approval. I stayed silent and obedient for him. I intended to give him information about the Wolves. I agreed to marry the monster that sits before me.

My mother told me that we always have a choice. But my whole life I have let others control my fate.

Tonight, that changes.

Adrenaline pumps through my body as we rattle along the wild terrain. I embrace it, and let it feed the violent beast that is stirring within me.

“I cannot believe you didn’t know,” says Sebastian.

If Callum was in this situation, I have no doubt he would end Sebastian in an instant. He would lurch forward and strangle him, sinking a dagger into his heart with ease.

I do not have his strength. Not physically.

I find myself wondering what Blake would do if faced with a larger opponent. He would find another way to defeat him—using his wit and his silken words and his aura of shadows. He somehow rose high in the Kingdom of Wolves, became an alpha, and whispered into the ear of the Wolf King—all while being an outsider.

I’m playing a game, little rabbit. And part of you wants to play too—just to see if you can beat me.

I slip on the mask I wore for many years—the mask of a dutiful princess, an obedient woman, a prize to be won—and I hope it hides the darkness that rises within.

“I am glad you saved me.” My voice is sweet as sugar and it makes me feel sick. “I was so afraid.”

Sebastian’s eyes flit to mine and narrow.

“I was kidnapped, but no one touched me. They said I had to be kept pure so they could trade me for that rock you gave them. And I wouldn’t have let them touch me, anyway. I would never let a wolf touch me.”

I put all my disgust at the man before me into the word.

“Is that so?” says Sebastian. “You didn’t let that beastly wolf from the kennels touch you?”

My insides scream. Wildness rattles against a cage in my chest. The thought that a monster such as Sebastian could call Callum beastly sets my insides aflame.

I let my mask cover my rage.

“I would never let him touch me,” I say. I lean forward and put my hand on his leg, inwardly flinching at the contact. “Let me prove it to you.”

His eyes darken, and something cold and hungry flashes behind them. Whatever beast resides beneath his skin stirs. I see it. I want to cower away from it. A wave of lust ripples from him, and my aura seems to curl in on itself, trying to get away.

I force myself to rise. I close the small space between us, and straddle his lap—my dress rising up my legs, and revulsion rising up my throat.

I will him to keep his eyes on mine, so he does not notice the now-exposed blade strapped to my thigh.

“We are to be man and wife soon,” I say softly, sweetly.

His gaze drags down my neck, my collarbone, my breasts—leaving a trail of cold in its wake. He licks his lips. My heartbeat pounds in my ears so hard that if he were a wolf, he would know my deception.

“Sebastian,” I whisper.

I remember being in Callum’s chambers, a silver letter opener in my hand, his hand rough and warm around mine.

Go for the throat, he told me.

In a sudden movement, I grab the knife. Before I can sink it through his pale flesh, he grabs my wrist. His other hand curls up into my hair, gripping tight.

I shriek—releasing the wildness in my soul—as I struggle against him. I try to push the blade against his neck. My scalp screams as Sebastian pulls my hair, and his fingers tighten around my wrist painfully.

He laughs. The sound is cold and dark, and his eyes flash with danger.

“Grew some teeth while you were with the Wolves, did you?” He bares my throat to him. He bends my wrist, hard, and the knife flies from my hand. “Not to worry. I’ve tamed many wild creatures in my time. I don’t like to be teased, Aurora. Especially not by little sluts like you. How about you show me what else you learned while you were being a whore to that Highfell beast?”

“Fuck you,” I hiss.

“Get on your knees.”

Fear and bile roll over me. The carriage blurs. I’m cold. Frozen.

“I said, get on your—”

Something hurtles into the side of the carriage, and the two of us are flung across the space. My shoulder slams painfully into the side as Sebastian’s body crashes into mine. For a moment, we’re a tangle of limbs and shattered glass and splintered wood. My head bashes against the ceiling, then the walls, as the carriage rolls.

It shudders to a halt on its side.

Everything is still.

I fight the adrenaline that’s making everything seem far away. I taste blood. My shoulder is crushed against one of the windows, and the carriage door is now above us. Long grass and jagged rocks splinter the glass. Sebastian stirs beside me, and there’s a crunching sound.

The knife has pierced the wood on the other side of his body. It glints in the moonlight that streams down. My pulse rages.

I lurch for it, shoving my knee into his crotch. He hisses, his eyelids flickering open.

Go for the throat.

In a swift movement, I slide the blade across Sebastian’s neck.

His eyes widen. He reaches for the wound as hot, red blood spills between his fingers.

“That is what I learned while being the whore to the Highfell Beast,” I snarl.

I expect to see horror on his face. Instead, his lips curve into a smile that mimics the slit across his throat.

“You. . . stupid. . . bitch. . .” he rasps as I lean over him. “Now you’ll. . . never know. . . the truth. Night. . . is . . . spreading. It will. . . take you all.”

A manic laugh bubbles from his lips with his last breath.

And then his body is still. Empty. Nothing but a grotesque and bloody statue of the monster he once was.

Disbelief crashes over me. I killed him. He’s really dead.

Shaking, I shove the door above me, and it flings open. I pull myself out of it, wood splintering my skin. Glass sprinkles off my dress when I stand. I think I am in shock, because everything feels far away. Cold adrenaline pumps through me, even though the danger has passed.

I stagger over the grass, almost tripping over the dismembered wheel of the carriage.

I’m in a clearing. The horses are gone. The man who was driving lies dead on the hill we rolled down. I’m alone.

The moon shines down on me, and the air has never tasted so sweet. It tastes like freedom. It tastes like a future I never dared to imagine. It tastes like hope.

I have just killed someone, and I’m sure I will feel something about that later. And yet, right now, I smile.

Until a growl rumbles through the night behind me.

I spin around.

A large brown wolf with markings on his legs stalks toward me, his muscles rippling with each thud of his paws. He bares his teeth.

I sigh, realizing what caused the carriage to roll over.

“James?” I say softly, soothingly. “It’s okay. It’s over. I killed him.”

His eyes flash with menace. I step back, frowning.

“James, what are you doing? You said. . .”