I sense the danger that emanates from him.

He is bigger, even, than Callum. The ground rumbles with every step he takes.

I do not know if he is angry I have robbed him of his kill, whether he wants to take something from Sebastian even after his death, or whether the wolf within him has taken over and just wants blood.

But his eyes promise death.

I release a half-laugh, almost manic, as hysteria bubbles inside me. I shake my head.

“No. You can’t do this. This cannot be the end.” My hand curls around the hilt of the bloody knife. “It can’t be.”

He growls, and I feel it vibrating through my soul.

“No.”

Yes, he seems to say.

I turn.

I run.

James crashes on top of me and the knife flies out of my grip. I scream as his teeth sink into my waist. He rolls me over, and hot blood pours from my body and paints his mouth crimson.

And I’m on fire. There is nothing but pain. Violence.

He snarls. He opens his jaw, exposing his sharp teeth.

I try to push him off me, but my body is heavy. So heavy. The life is draining out of me.

My vision blurs and I think of my mother. I wonder if I’ll see her again in the afterlife.

James is ripped from my body.

I blink as cold air bites into me. I can breathe again, but it hurts. Goddess, it hurts. A wolf snarls. I force my head to the side so I can see.

A large wolf, almost as big as James, is facing his king. His fur is tawny, and I catch the glint of forest-green in his eyes as the moon hits them.

“Callum,” I rasp.

The two Wolves growl as they circle one another.

Callum attacks.

He is as fierce, and feral, and vicious as I knew he could be. He tears into his brother’s throat, hurling him across the clearing as though he is a stuffed toy. James skids to a halt, unearthing grass and creating tracks in the mud.

The two launch through the air. They’re a blur of muscle and teeth. I cannot tell who is winning. I can barely see anything at all. Dots dance in front of my eyes and blood pools around me.

James slams Callum to the ground and sinks his teeth into Callum’s neck. Callum whimpers and the sound punctures my heart.

No.

The wind stirs around me.

No.

My body is weak, but I push myself up. I grip my side, and I force myself to stand. My legs tremble.

I move toward them and every step feels like I am pushing through syrup. My skin is clammy, and my hair sticks to my face. Blood pumps hot through my fingers.

I can’t let him kill Callum. My knees buckle and I fall, hard.

My eyes burn and Callum whines again.

I extend my arm, knowing I cannot reach him. Goddess, please.

There’s a flash of black fur.

The moon disappears behind the rolling Northlands clouds, plunging the land into darkness. When the black wolf crashes into James, the two of them shift into men and hurtle across the grass.

Callum shifts back too, and stumbles to his feet, his neck already healing. He turns to Blake, who has his hand curled around James’s neck. The scars on his muscular back are vivid even in the darkness.

“Get her out of here!” roars Blake. “Now!”

Callum bolts toward me.

He gathers me in his arms. I melt against his chest as I feel his warmth and smell his familiar scent.

I am going to die. But I am glad he is here with me.

Holding me closely, delicately, Callum looks at Blake once more. Confused. Or perhaps he is conflicted about leaving his savior alone with his physically stronger brother.

“Now!” roars Blake.

Callum turns, and he runs.

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Chapter Fifty-Eight

The air is thick with the scent of pine and darkness.

Somewhere, an animal is whimpering.

I push through the undergrowth toward it. Thorns snag my clothes, and brambles squish beneath my bare feet. I emerge into a moonlit clearing.

A wolf the color of moonlight lies in the center, but blood tarnishes her fur. She is injured. Her foot is caught in a trap.

She snarls as I approach, but I cannot leave her to die.

“Shh,” I whisper. “It’s going to be okay.”

I prize open the jaws of the trap, my fingers bleeding and slipping on the harsh metal teeth.

The wolf cries. She stumbles free, turning to face me.

For a moment, we stare at one another.

“Don’t go,” I say. “I need you.”

She turns. She flees.

“No!”

I’m plunged into darkness.

“Come back!”

The wind no longer whispers through the trees, and the moon is snuffed out. Shadows creep through the undergrowth, and slither through the grass like snakes.

“Don’t leave me!” I scream. “Please!”

I am lost.

I am empty.

I am alone.

The darkness swallows me.

But I hear a voice in the distance.

“Stay with me.”

***

“Stay with me, Princess. Please.”

Pain crashes through me. I force my eyelids to open but they are heavy.

Everything is blurry. There’s something soft beneath me. I scrunch my fingers and feel wet grass.

Callum’s face comes into focus.

His eyes are panicked and covered in a watery film. His dirty-blond hair is tangled, and there is blood on his neck and chest.

He’s leaning over me, and his hand is pressed into my side.

“Oh, Goddess.” His voice breaks. “I’m so sorry, Aurora. I’m so sorry. I never should have left you.”

“You’re here.” My words are weak and they’re carried away on the breeze.

“I’m here.” A tear rolls down his face. I want to reach for him, to brush it away, but he is too far away. My body is too heavy. He touches my cheek. “I’m here.”

I smile.

He makes a sound in his throat, a sob. “You’re going to be okay.”

And I know then that he thinks I’m going to die.

There’s something important I want to tell him, but my brain is fuzzy. I cannot find the words.

My eyelids flicker. The world dulls.

“Stay with me, Princess. You have to fight this. Please—”

Callum stiffens and looks over his shoulder. A second later, someone crashes to their knees beside him.

“Move aside.” A sharp male voice cuts through the darkness.

Callum keeps his hand on the bite, but shifts slightly. He takes one of my hands, and his fingers curl tightly around mine as if he can stop me from falling away.

“Can you save her?” Callum’s voice is small. Afraid.

Even though I’m so far away right now, I know that his voice should not sound that way. He is strong and certain—a warrior. He does not fear anything.

“I don’t know.” Blake’s face swims into focus.

He is a monstrous vision. His neck and chest are crimson with blood, and there’s mud caked in his hair. His expression is serious, and that, too, seems wrong.

Where is the mockery? Where is the smirk on his lips?

I close my eyes.

He taps my cheek. “Look at me.”

My eyelids are seared shut. I do not want to look at him, anyway.

“I should have known you were too weak,” says Blake. “Or perhaps it is not weakness, perhaps you are simply too ashamed to face me. Do you remember when you slapped me, little rabbit? Back in my chambers? I was on my knees before you. Do you know what I think? I think you were angry with me because you were imagining riding my face. And you liked it.”

My eyes flicker open. Shock and irritation ripple through me.