“I promised not to kill the girls,” Valerie said thoughtfully, “but I think my partner in crime will understand if we lose just one.”
Maddy lunged, snapping her half-human muzzle at the old woman with the knack for influencing animals. She didn’t see the snakes rushing down from the forest, didn’t see the one close enough to strike.
I saw it, though—saw it and felt everything Valerie wanted me to feel as fangs struck at Maddy’s body, only to be intercepted at the last minute in a blur of darkness and fur.
Chase. Bleeding. Hurting. He stumbled, turned, cut the snake down the middle with his jaws even as its head clung to his hind leg.
I stopped breathing.
Hurts. Hurts, Bryn. Maddy? Okay?
Chase’s thoughts were a mess, as uncensored and jumbled as Lily’s. I wanted to go to him, but I couldn’t move, and all I could see was Chase beside me, Chase standing guard, Chase shielding Maddy’s body with his own.
Maddy? Okay? Bryn?
Chase’s voice was weaker in my mind now, and that was enough to tell me just how badly he was hurt. I could feel the burn of silver, the venom in his bloodstream.
Bryn … Protect … Mine …
I let down my walls, let him in. He filled me up, the way he and Devon and Lake had before, but this time, it was just the two of us. Chase and Bryn. Bryn and Chase.
Bryn. Protect Maddy.
For you.
I hadn’t realized how far into my head Valerie had managed to get until Chase was there, too. His presence pushed against hers, and my body finally recognized the invasion for what it was.
She was attacking me from the inside out. She was violating me. She was hurting the people I loved.
Red, red, red …
Everywhere, there was red.
On some level, I knew that my own body was injured, knew that once I flashed out, there would be nothing to keep me from pushing too hard, too far.
It didn’t matter. I could feel Chase lying on his side, bleeding, as his voice got softer and softer in my mind.
Red, red, everywhere, there was red.
Chase had saved Maddy. For me. He was going to survive this. He had to. We had to. With everything I had, I shoved Valerie out of my head. She blinked like I’d thrown something at her and stumbled backward.
“No bother,” Valerie said, her hair falling into her face as she recovered. “You’re a curious little thing, but I don’t need to be in your head to win this fight—or any other. I’ve already got so many little soldiers. Can you feel how much they hate you? How much they want to see your people bleed? It’s a delicate mixture—fear and loathing, the kind of curiosity they’re ashamed of, sorrow and fury—rising, rising, until they can’t stand it anymore.”
“Hello, Mother.” I didn’t know whether to take Caroline’s appearance at our side as a good sign or a bad one. At least if she was here, she couldn’t be targeting the rest of the pack.
At least if she was here, everyone else was safe—from her.
“Hello, Caroline.” Valerie sounded mildly pleased at her daughter’s arrival—no more, no less.
I looked at Caroline’s cherubic face, took in her doll-like features and the color of her eyes.
Watched them go from blue to black.
“Shoot her.” Valerie spoke the words, and I dove to the ground, just as the world exploded around me. I knew a shot had been fired, but couldn’t tell who had been shot. I was already in pain—so much pain—and I could feel all of the others’, feel it everywhere.
Someone was shot.
Was it me?
No.
I clung to consciousness, clung to Chase as he began to fade away, and the last thing I saw before everything went black was Caroline’s eyes changing back to blue—and Ali standing over Valerie’s lifeless body, holding a smoking gun.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I WAS LYING ON MY BACK, MY HEAD TURNED TO THE side, my eyes closed. I knew before I opened them that Chase would be there, lying on his back, his head turned toward mine. The night sky stretched out above us, stars burning so bright it hurt to look at them.
His hand wove its way through mine.
Neither one of us spoke, but I felt his heartbeat as if it were my own, and for reasons I couldn’t pinpoint, tears began trickling down my face, slowly at first, but then faster.
This isn’t real. I tried not to think the words, but couldn’t hold them back.
I wanted it to be real. I wanted him to be okay, and barring that, I wanted the two of us to stay this way, my hand wrapped in his, his face close enough to mine that I could taste him.
Cedar and cinnamon. Chase.
He wasn’t bleeding.
I wasn’t burned.
And the ground beneath us was … not ground, I realized. It was concrete, and though the sky stretched out in all directions above us, here on earth, we were surrounded by walls.