No one wandered the streets. The wagons sat abandoned on the road. It would have looked vacant if not for the long line forming behind a coach bearing Diana’s moon.

  Women stood shoulder to shoulder in the frost-covered grass. Children were clutched against their hips or clinging to their hands. One by one, they took their turn approaching the two white-haired women handing out bread. A third witch with elaborate braids and a thick fur stole moved down the line, pressing folded pieces of parchment into waiting hands. The women tucked them into aprons without looking down, as though they already knew what they said.

  It looked innocent enough, Witches of the Light sharing Diana’s harvest with the poor, but my suspicions rose when I saw the moonstones around their necks.

  A gust of wind blew through my hair, and one of the witches stilled. Slowly, she turned her head toward where I was standing. I flattened myself against the tree trunk, pressing bark into my spine and willing my pulse to quiet. This wasn’t the army I was looking for. It was something else entirely.

  Chancing a look around the tree, I noticed the witch with the pamphlets was gone. In her place stood a black-furred wolf. Not the half-human kind that had attacked us in the tunnels or at Chastity’s. This was a real wolf.

  The same size and shape as my own pair.

  She sniffed the air, and I stilled. If I wanted to keep moving unseen, that old draft horse wasn’t going to help me. The only time I’d flown was when I leapt from the carriage, and I had no clue how it worked. I told myself I would learn quickly or be torn apart in the underbrush.

  The wolf took one step into the tree line, then another. I dropped to my knees and scanned the forest floor until I spotted a broken branch thick as my palm. It would have to do. I swung one leg over the branch and straddled it.

  I closed my eyes and thought of the freedom I’d felt when I’d jumped from the carriage. Of the way I felt like a raven taking flight. The wolves’ shining yellow eyes appeared through the brush, and I knew I was out of time.

  Freedom. Freedom. I repeated the word. Along with hurry up.

  The air caught beneath me in a sudden rush and lifted me off the ground. Pine needles and bare branches scratched at my arms and legs, catching and tearing the fabric as I soared higher into the air.

  A howl pierced through the quiet, as if the black wolf was calling to its pack mates. Alerting them to my presence.

  Once I was clear of the trees, high above the forest floor, I could see everything for miles. It was freeing and terrifying, especially when I realized just how far up I was. I wrapped my arms around the branch, clinging to it when I spied a clearing about a mile past the village.

  Pointed logs formed a wall around it, but inside, I saw movement.

  That’s where Mama was, waiting for me to arrive in a coach, bound and blindfolded, just in time to see her claim an army of wolves. I knew what unspeakable things she’d do with them when she crossed into the Unified Territories. She’d start with cutting off the source of dark magick by destroying every demonic relic she could.

  I sucked in a shuddering breath. That’s what I’d been sent to do. This is where I fit into her story. It would be a calculated strike if she already knew their location. Unlike the Lawless Lands, the people of the Unified Territories didn’t expect war. Yes, there were thieves, and Mama did provoke retaliatory behavior with her raids on Witches of the Darkness, but no one was ready for this.

  Urging the branch forward, I flew through the air, black skirts waving in the wind like a banner. Somehow, I managed to convince my tree branch to stop beside a thick pine tree that overlooked the fort. Perched on one of the highest branches, I saw hundreds of weres. Red fur. Black fur. Silver grays and snowy whites. All with the same human bodies and elongated snouts.

  None of them had moonstones. And I didn’t know how many were Witches of the Light who volunteered for this, and how many were villagers, like the ones I’d seen. Trading an empty belly for this.

  This was what happened when powerful leaders fed their people nothing but fear. It turned good witches, good people, into monsters. Drones. An army of wolves ready to attack whoever. Whenever. And for little more than a hot meal and the promise of security.

  I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.

  And there, parading through the lines was Mama. She was walking beside a witch with short-cropped white hair and big gold eyes. She was swaddled in a thick fur cloak. Around her neck sat a moonstone the size of a goose egg.

  Where was my sister? Sera had to be here if Mama was.

  “Your army is ready,” the woman with short hair said. “The only thing left is my payment.”

  My stomach hollowed. I realized this must be Shayla. The witch who’d killed Bastien’s friend, Hector, and sent his severed head to him in a box. Why was Mama with Shayla?

  Shayla tossed a dead rabbit onto the ground, and the wolves lunged at the carcass. Fighting and clawing to be the one to gobble it up. I covered my mouth with a hand, while tears pricked in my eyes.

  Was this what life looked like for the wolf I’d killed? Locked in a fort, awaiting orders? Ready to do whatever it took to survive?

  Carefully, minding my balance, I removed the small shell from my pocket and held it between my fingers. The energy Gorrath had imbued it with thrummed against my skin.

  Before I’d seen them, before I’d seen the village and the children, I’d intended on spreading my rot to all of them. But now, knowing everything I knew, it felt less like justice and more like murder. How could I kill all of them for the lies of people like Shayla and Mama, the only people who benefited from a system that kept people outraged and afraid. Who were desperate enough to become these things.

  I couldn’t do it, not even for a drop of Mama’s blood, because that could be me, standing down there. Easily.

  Sadness sat heavy in my heart. My chest. It lived behind my eyes. I wanted to cry for them, for me, and for all the people who were just trying to do the right thing.

  Slowly, I went to put the shell back in my pocket, unable to do what I’d come to do, but a gust of wind slammed against me, and the shell slipped between my fingers and tumbled downward.

  “No!” I silently screamed. Watching as it hit branches and bounced off tree trunks, gaining momentum as it fell. Until it ricocheted toward the army of werewolves and landed in the mud between two snarling bodies.

  My breath was caged in my chest. I hoped and prayed that no one would notice it. Shayla and Mama were laughing as they watched another group of wolves fight over a dead rabbit. Shayla froze, like a predator who’d caught scent of their prey.

  Chapter 38

  Le Choix

  BASTIEN

  They took her.

  My wife. My mate. My Claire.

  It was my worst nightmare come to life. I’d been made to protect her. To shield her from pain. If I’d possessed a scrap of humility, I would have taken her back to Château Corbin when news of werewolves first reached me. I should’ve swallowed my pride. I should’ve chosen caution over conquest. But no. I hadn’t.

  And now my pride had led me here. To this.

  Gorrath, dead.

  Devlinn, dead.

  Warriors—good citizens of Roselyn—dead.

  Her heartbeat was the only reassurance I had that she was still alive.

  I surveyed the devastation and made a decision. I wouldn’t ask anyone else to follow me. Not again. Not anymore. Blood ran warm down the side of my face, and I wiped it away.

  Stepping over bodies I had known by name, men who had toasted at my table and laughed in my halls, I made for the twisting corridors that led toward the stables. “I need a horse.”

  Natalia planted herself in front of me and pressed her hand flat against my chest. As if she could physically restrain what I was about to do. “I know what you’re planning,” she said. “And you can’t.”

  I shoved her hand away and kept walking. “Collect the dead. Take everyone else home.”

  “No.” She circled in front of me again, forcing me to stop. “I’m coming with you.”

  I snarled. “I thought you hated Claire.”

  “I do.” Her throat worked. “I don’t.” She shook her head, almost angry at the confession. “Where you go, I follow. How else will I clean up your mess?”

  I wanted to smile, but there was nothing left inside of me. Nothing but Claire. “You have your orders. Take care of the army. Lead them.” I unsheathed my blade. “I’m going to get my wife.”

  We stared at one another. Then Natalia stepped back and dipped into a shallow curtsy. “Very well. I will assume command of the army.”

  I saw nothing as I walked. Heard nothing. Felt nothing save for the bond between Claire and me. It was the only thing I could focus on.

  That was, until my nephew fell into step beside me as I climbed the long set of stairs that led to ground level, Claire’s wolves trailing. At least Chastity had released them. Some small mercy in a field of ruin.

  “You have Château Rose,” I told him, not sparing him a glance. “Natalia will be your commander. Don’t fuck it up.”

  “An honor. Truly, Uncle. Thank you,” Tyson said. But he didn’t leave.

  I shoved open an exterior door at the top of the staircase, and he went to follow after me. “Go. Lead your people.”

  My nephew laughed tensely. “I know you’re going to get Claire. I want to introduce you to someone who can help you. Well, two someones.”

  I spared a glance at the empty stairwell, then back at him. “You are not coming.”

  He went to pat the head of Claire’s white wolf, but it dodged his touch. She climbed the last few steps and came to stand in front of me. I batted her away with my sword. I needed to get moving.

  But the wolf growled before her fur began receding like morning mist. Her limbs thickened and lengthened. Her snout shortened. Where there had been four paws now stood a woman.

  A woman whom I recognized. “You’re Claire’s sister.”

  Except she had moon-white hair. Not lilac. And she was a werewolf?

  “Wolves can sense each other when they’re wearing the moonstones,” Tyson said, gesturing to the stone around her neck. “It’s how Shayla knew where to attack us.”

  I ignored him, holding the woman’s gaze. She had the same color eyes as Claire. There was a story here, but I didn’t have time to hear it. The only thing I cared about was finding Claire.

  “Seraphina?” I asked.

  She nodded once.

  “That’s your name?” Tyson said.

  She rolled her eyes. “I know where she is.”

  I grabbed my bloodstone and held it up for her to see. “So do I. All I have to do is follow this.”

  “But you don’t know who has her.”

  I leaned in. “Who has her?”

  She lifted her chin in a way that reminded me of her sister. “Our mother. Angelina Prideaux.”

  The breath left my lungs. I knew there was more to Claire’s story, but I hadn’t expected this. Then all the disparate pieces I knew about Claire began to slide into place. And I finally understood that this was the thing she hadn’t been able to tell me. That it hadn’t been convent sisters who had filled her head with hate, but the most venomous witch in the Unified Territories.

  “Your mother, she’s the one who put that choker on Claire. Isn’t she?”

  Sera nodded. “Yes. She convinced her, convinced me, that it was the only thing left to do. But I know she loves you. I’ve never seen my sister so happy.”

  I stared into her eyes, eyes that reminded me of my wife’s, and hated that this life, this vicious life that I was giving her, was the happiest she’d been.

  “If you want to save her, you’ll need me. Us,” Seraphina said, pointing to a man who had appeared at her side. One I also recognized. Alec.

  Anger flared in my chest. He’d been the brown wolf? This whole time? I snatched his shirt and lifted my sword, ready to kill him where he stood for deceiving Claire and me.

  Tyson grabbed my blade with his bare hand, stopping me from completing the kill. Blood ran between his fingers, a fierce look in his eyes. “He is here to help. Just like me. And her. You’ll need all of us if you’re going to get Claire back.”

  I stared at him, bewildered by his behavior. I’d just given him everything he’d wanted. My castle. My title. Why was he still here? I snarled, and he snarled back. “Let him go, Uncle. He is not your enemy, and we are wasting time.”

  Reluctantly, I released my hold on Alec. Tyson was right. This was taking up too much time. I needed to find Claire. “If you want to come, come. But if you interfere, I will not hesitate to kill you. Any of you.”

  I made for the stables, but Sera grabbed my shoulder, stopping me. “My mother has made a deal with Shayla.”

  “What kind of deal?”

  Sera swallowed hard. “I don’t know. Mama didn’t share every detail with me. All I know is that she wants the Blood Treaty destroyed. And she knows you are the key.”

  I tapped my sword against the ground. “The only thing I heard you say was that she has my wife. Everything else is just details.”

  I didn’t care if they followed me or stayed. I had one focus. One need.

  As soon as I mounted a horse, I closed my eyes and reached out through our bond. The world narrowed to a single point of heat inside my chest. “Hold on, my love. I’m coming.”

  I rode hard through the dark, navigating by my heart alone. For the first time in five hundred years, I was my own man. And the only person I wanted to answer to was my wife.

  An overturned carriage appeared on the road ahead of us, lying on its side. Claire’s scent was everywhere. I did not wait for anyone else to dismount. I threw myself from the saddle and tore the crooked door open with my bare hands.

  Empty.

  The brown wolf padded forward and dropped something at my feet. A length of rope, half-burned through. The white wolf had a strip of fabric in her jaws.

  I took them in my hands, knowing my wife had been blindfolded and bound. And yet… she had still escaped.

  “You heard what Sera said, Uncle. This is all a trap designed to destabilize the Blood Treaty. If she catches you, she knows you’ll do anything for Claire.”

  I let out a hoarse laugh that held no humor. “I’m already on my knees. One day, when you have a mate, you’ll understand.”

  The wind carried a sound to me. A voice. I did not remember walking away from Tyson or leaving the carriage. I only knew I was running. Branches tore at my coat as I plunged between the pines and vaulted over streams. Tyson shouted something behind me, but his words meant nothing. I raced faster, legs and arms pumping. Nothing mattered. Nothing else mattered. Except her.

  Chapter 39

  Soumission

  CLAIRE

  From my perch in the trees, I held very still. Wind stirred loose straw near the fence posts. A pair of wolves shoved at each other over a scrap of meat. Shayla glanced once around the training yard, eyes skimming the wolves circling the perimeter, then she turned back to Mama.

  I blew out a long breath of relief. The shell lay unnoticed in the soft mud. One of the younger wolves who was sniffing around for scraps got closer and closer.

  No. No. Keep moving.

  He sniffed it, then scrambled back. “Dark magick!” he shouted. “Right there!”

  My heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven. His voice hadn’t even dropped. But his fear of that little shell was evident.

  Mama and Shayla exchanged a loaded glance, and I knew, I knew, what was coming in the way prey always sensed the hawk before it struck. The wolves parted without being told as Mama approached. She crouched down and plucked it from the dirt with two fingers, sneering like it was something vile.

  I leaned forward, unable to look away. That shell was supposed to go to Shreesa and her family, to replace the ones Mama had already destroyed.

  “Dark magick isn’t just out there, in Chastity’s disgusting underground lair. Where she devours children and tortures innocents for fun. It is everywhere,” she said. “Damien and his demons threaten us at every turn. Even here, on Diana’s sacred ground.”

  A few of the weres began to draw back, hackles raised, nostrils flaring.

  “And if vampires have their way, they’d have you doing the same.”

  From the branches above, I could see the shell in Mama’s hand. I needed to get it back. Without it, Shreesa’s family wouldn’t be able to defend themselves.

  My mind raced through possibilities, each more desperate than the last. But I knew I needed to act fast. Mama wasn’t going to keep the shell around. She would smash it under her boot, just like she smashed everything else.

  “How do I know this?” she asked, head bowed. “My own daughter was seduced by it.” The wolves howled. And I realized, she was talking about me. “That’s right. I led a party of valiant warriors, just like yourselves. Fighters for Diana’s love and light. And I watched as she sided with a demon. Helping him spread disease among your brothers and sisters.”

  More yelping. More howling. Shayla thrust her fist into the air and added a rallying cry.

  Mama continued. “I told her to repent. To make amends. To come back into the light. But she didn’t want to listen.”

  I dug my fingernails into the wood, feeling angrier by the second. This was just another one of her stories, and she was leaving out the part where she was the villain.

  “She allowed darkness into her heart, and now we must guide her back to Diana.”

  I had come here to break the curse at my throat. To take her blood and end this. Instead, I was watching her build an army on my back.

  The thunder of paws came from outside the fort, and I carefully glanced over my shoulder to find the black-furred wolf and two pack mates weaving between the trees. My stomach dropped. In seconds, Mama was going to know the truth. That I’d escaped.