They materialized from darkness itself. One stalked out of the woods behind Dante, its eyes glowing harsh and yellow. And though Nika didn't lift her gaze off the thieving boy who'd tricked her, she sensed others. Two on the sides, perhaps another at her back.

"Nika," Miles warned from her right flank, "we're outnumbered."

She willed her hands not to shake as she held the gun, its barrel pointed straight at Dante's chest. She'd never had good aim, but if she got a few feet closer, she knew she could hit him.

"Your friend is right," he said, and Nika almost felt sick at the oozing arrogance. "But we don't have to outnumber you to win this fight. Which is why you should do the smart thing and lower the weapon."

"Just listen to him," Elliot urged.

"Shut up," Nika hissed. She didn't need him, of all people, ordering her around. Not now. Not ever.

Dante was just trying to scare them into cooperation. But he'd presented no real proof that his allies were Volkari, despite their monstrous sizes, or the spark of intelligence in their eyes. They weren't ordinary wolves, but there had to be another explanation.

As if to taunt her, a beast in her periphery snapped its jaws and growled. "Surely, you know that Volkari aren't known for being patient," said Dante.

He prowled closer. Now would be the chance to shoot him, but what if she missed? And even if she hit the mark, she wouldn't be able to put down the wolves before they began ripping into her friends.

Hating both herself and Dante, Nika ground out, "If I drop the gun, will you let us go?"

"Most of you."

Ice formed in Nika's veins, especially when Miles came up beside her with his hands raised. "If you want someone, take me."

Grinning, Dante said, "A gallant effort, but I'm afraid you aren't the one we need."

Nika didn't let herself acknowledge the wave of relief, and instead considered letting them take Elliot. He was the son of a Minister, after all. The Mirza family had wealth and influence, which Dante could procure by holding Elliot for ransom.

But then again, her own father was a Minister, and equally capable of providing those things. Nika wondered how Markos might have responded. Might he pay any sum, perform any deed, to save her? Nika was his only family, after all. Surely, he'd want to salvage the good Dimitrovich name.

"If I go with you," Nika said to Dante, "promise not to lay a finger on any of them."

Even Elliot. Because, even though she despised him, Nika knew Lu would've been devastated if he were harmed.

"While that seems like a lot of fun, halfblood, we don't need you, either."

Nika was a blink away from shooting him in the foot just to find out who he intended to kidnap. But straight overhead, a blur of crimson dropped from the trees, then someone tackled her to the ground.

As Nika flattened on the grass, the gun flew out of her grip and skidded into a dusty patch of earth. Ignoring the twinge from her collision with the ground, she leapt up again, whirling and raising her fists.

Bullets be damned. She would fight with her own two hands.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she met the face of a woman with sapphire eyes and coils of hair that looked like they'd been drenched in blood. And before she could wonder where the woman had come from, a grunt crackled from behind. Remembering the enemy at her back, Nika spun around to find Dante only a few strides away.

He was on the ground, his body warping. Shifting. Bones snapped. Flesh ripped and stretched over muscles. Spittle and snarls flew from his mouth, which extended in the shape of a lupine muzzle.

Nika staggered as Dante exploded, the shift rippling through him with ravenous intent. And she scarcely believed her own eyes as he landed on four paws, rising over her in the form of a red-brown wolf.

Too absorbed with her own shock, Nika didn't realize what was happening until she heard Lu's scream. It shattered the silence, the air, the night itself. And Nika whirled around just in time to see the red-haired woman snatch her sister-friend off the ground.

Elliot, to his credit, tried clinging to Lu, but the woman kicked him in the chest. He flew back with a cry and slammed down fifteen feet away. Something cracked upon impact, and Jade rushed to defend him as he groaned in pain.

Nika's heart raced. Whoever the woman was, she was impossibly strong and ten times faster than any Daemonstri Nika had seen. In a blur, the red-haired lady darted for the forest, Lu writhing and screaming in her arms. Three of the wolves followed, flocking around them as if to form a protective barrier.

"Lu!" Nika bellowed.

She was moving before she was thinking.

Not Lu. Anyone but Lu.

They weren't just friends. They were sisters. Not by blood, but in every other way that mattered. They'd been raised together, and they would die together. It had been a silent promise through seventeen years of intimate companionship.

Nika ran, hard and fast. All she could do was follow Lu's cries, which faded into the forest like tendrils of smoke in frigid air. But she barely got three strides before something slammed into her.

The next thing she knew was the taste of grass, the hot liquid that slid down her temple, and a searing pain in her thigh. She blinked away the spots in her vision to find a wolf standing over her.

Red-brown fur, golden eyes, a snarl that looked too much like a smile. Dante.

He pressed a giant paw into her leg, claws piercing through skin and latching on tight. An involuntary screech escaped her. And as she stared into his mouth, she remembered a lesson from her earliest years of school:

When bitten by a Volkari in wolf form, the member of another Daemonstri race will die . . . The bite of a Volkari is always lethal, and it only takes one to do the deed.

The recollection had fear tearing Nika apart, and she thrashed and struggled to find an escape.

"Stop!"

It was Miles who shouted. Nika craned her neck to find him aiming the pistol at the wolf's head. Dante's canine mouth split open further. A mocking smile.

Miles didn't wait. He pulled the trigger. Once, twice, three times.

Instinct sent Nika curling over herself, arms shielding her head. And as she did so, Dante's claws clenched deeper. The pain splintered through her leg, through her very existence, as he bowed over her, dodging the bullets.

Somewhere nearby, Jade released a wordless roar, but Nika could barely hear it above the ferocious growling of another wolf. Or Miles's unmistakable scream of pain.

Nika lowered her shaking arms. Dante was still standing above her, still pinning her in place with that paw. But she didn't care. Not as she frantically glanced around.

She found Jade first, crouching beside Elliot. A shiver danced along Nika's skin, and her heart palpitated at the horrified expression on her roommate's face.

No, she prayed.

The sound of claws ripping through flesh and bone.

No!

A metallic stench.

No no no no no no no

Nika twisted as a familiar hand fell onto the ground, her pistol clattering out of it. Blood soaked through the dirt with relentless haste, and its source wasn't moving. Or breathing. Or blinking.

It was Miles. And by the vacant glaze of his eyes, she knew that he was gone.

A nightmare—this must be a nightmare.

Because Nika Dimitrovich would not accept this as a reality. She couldn't. And yet . . . Lu's screams were but an echo, smothered by the dense forest, and Miles was motionless.

Spewing profanities, she writhed and raged beneath Dante's animal form, focusing on the silver wolf who stood over Miles's lifeless body, blood dripping from its maw.

She would kill them. All of them. She would ruin the Volkari race, put them back into extinction, where they rightfully belonged.

Just when Nika tore her leg free of Dante's claws, her ears exploded, ringing so violently that her thoughts became a diluted mess. Clutching her head, she curled over her knees and gritted her teeth against the onslaught. Muffled noise met her. Was it a screeching wind? No—for the trees were still and silent. Perhaps a mighty thunder? But the sky was clear, the moon luminescent.

A great pressure crushed her skull. And then—voices.

"We weren't supposed to kill anyone," Dante exclaimed.

"He would have shot you," another man replied, his words a low and callous grind.

A forceful throb pounded through Nika's skull. She crashed onto her back.

"What's wrong with this one?" said the man.

"I don't know," said Dante.

His massive wolf head appeared above her, and he studied her face intently. If she hadn't known better, she might have mistaken it for concern.

"The moon is descending. We need to go."

Footfall thudded the earth, then twigs cracked and leaves hissed as something big and fast tore through the forest.

When the sounds faded, Dante peered down. "Remember, halfblood, you're alive because of me."

Nika gaped in horror. His mouth wasn't moving, and yet, he was speaking. But once his words settled, her sentiments shifted entirely. A pure, cleansing rage swept through her.

"Don't call me halfblood."

She could have sworn he smiled. When a mighty howl shook the earth, Dante retreated in the opposite direction, his gaze lingering on Nika. Then he dove into the shadowy trees, and there was nothing but the hush of the woods to soothe her unsteady heart.