Then I see where the blood came from. His side is bleeding really bad, and I scramble to pull a healing potion from my bra. It’s not going to be enough though. He takes it and pulls his own shirt off, tossing it over the top of the house. As he rubs the healing potion on, not seeming to be in any hurry, I work damn hard to not panic.

I cast a worried glance up at him as he digs out the bullet and tosses it aside, glaring at it, showing no signs of pain.

He gestures for me to get down, as he takes my shirt and puts it in the tree several feet away from me, like he’s giving them a second trail to follow.

I brave a quick look, as bullets continue to spray all around the area we were standing just seconds ago, like they’re just aimlessly shooting at something they can’t see.

Then the bullets stop, and I hear someone hiss, “He’s bleeding.”

When I look back, Damien is nowhere to be seen, and my stomach plummets. Where’d he go?

A man walks right by me like he doesn’t see me at all, which is good, since I had no idea he was coming up from behind me. I’m not good at this. My plan always involves “dying” before fighting, dammit.

I haven’t been trained for live-action melees.

I hold really still when I hear a lot of growling from behind me, and I slowly shut my eyes and count to three, praying it goes away.

It doesn’t get any closer, but it doesn’t go away either.

I wish I had eyes in the back of my head sometimes.

Braving a glance over my shoulder, I see eyes glimmering in the woods…so many pairs of eyes. Buzzing happens somewhere in there, almost as though phones have vibrated simultaneously. Wolves launch out of the shadows with no warning—too many of them to count. They quickly spill into the clearing surrounding the cabin.

Several charge by me, and about five start trying to climb the tree with my shirt in it.

Two shove their noses in something on the ground, presumably Damien’s blood, before snarling and growling. Other than that, they stay mostly quiet, as they run around the side of the house.

A tremble starts in my hands, as more and more wolves move into the clearing, getting into the hundreds. How many can Damien take? I know he can’t die forever, but I really don’t want him dying at all.

I’m not even sure what exactly kills alphas. He pulled that bullet out like it was a bee’s stinger.

Where the fucking hell is he?

I hear a strangled sound and a wolf’s yelp on the other side of the house, before a frenzied set of barks and cries let out.

Again and again, more barks and more yelps, and one howls out in pain. Whatever restraint they had in keeping as quiet as possible is snapped with that one long howl, because it sets off a series of howls.

So many answer back that the ground rattles under me. Something hard slams into the back of my head, and I barely muffle a cry of pain as I hit the ground.

I look around, searching for my attacker. I feel like an idiot when I see what’s struck me. A broken flower pot lies beside me like I’ve landed in a cruel cartoon. There’s a single daisy poking up out of the broken dirt as if to punctuate the terrible sense of humor the universe seems to have around me.

The ground thunders again as they all charge in a frenzy, and I hear Damien cursing on the other side of the house as more yelps, snapping jaws, and a lot of other horrifying sounds ring out.

I’m still half dazed when something else crashes out of the window, realizing belatedly there’s a fight between two wolves inside the damn house above me, knocking shit off the balcony as they tear into each other.

A few more turn and fight with each other, like they have no idea who to fight, but they feel like they have to fight something.

The vast majority rush to the other side of the house, as I lift my hand to the back of my throbbing head.

My stomach drops when I feel a little wetness back there.

A line of wolves screech to a stop, quickly turning their bodies in my direction, as they sniff the air. Their eyes all land on me, and then pass over me. Then…they dart back on me as they sniff the air again.

Uh-oh.

They may not be able to see me, but they sure as shit smell my blood now.

Damien is grabbing me off the ground in the next instant, and I feel us moving before I even realize I’m wrapped around him.

He drops me to the ground, and I stagger to my feet behind him, as he fires off four shots with my gun, taking down four wolves. Keeping me shielded, he quickly fires off more shots, which bat down two wolves that are/were flying at us.

Too much is happening all at once for my mind to keep track of everything, and fur is flashing from all sides, because wolves are everywhere.

“I’ve got one trick to take down some of them. We might be able to run, but I’ve not kept myself strong enough for all this fucking shit. I’m the lover, not the motherfucking horde fighter,” Damien bites out as he moves us again, using his speed, even as the wolves seem to keep coming in from all directions.

I say nothing, not wanting to give away our new location, as he moves us over and over, spreading the scent of our blood, presumably.

But they seem to keep finding us, refusing to be thrown off.

Damien gets next to my ear as he moves in a fast, light-footed circle. “If worse comes to worse, play dead. Don’t let yourself panic with this many wolves here, Violet. You’ll burn out, and they’ll tear you apart,” he tells me so quietly I almost don’t hear him.

When my heartbeat kicks up, he squeezes me tighter, even as my stomach tightens in dread.

My eyes fly to his and hold, and he gives me a subtle nod, letting me know he’s apparently in on my secret. Emit’s a blabbing asshole after all.

But the wolves pressing in distracts us both, not giving me time to process what this means.

“Fucking purebloods,” he growls before he tosses me hard into the air.

My breath catches, and the sensation of dropping happens seconds later.

A little freaking warning would be nice before I land on a thick branch, my middle hitting it hard enough to force a loud grunt out of me.

Eyes swing toward me like they’ve tracked the sound, as Damien cracks his neck to the side.

“When I say drop, you drop,” he tells me just as slushy sleet begins to patter in an off-beat rhythm.

In the next instant, all the wolves rushing him tumble to the ground, stumbling over themselves and howling in pain, with no discernable reason as to why.

“Drop!” he shouts like I’ve already missed one command to do so.

I swing myself forward, clumsily flipping over the branch, and land hard in his arms. It all happens so fast, and everything is so disorienting, that I don’t even realize he’s running with me for a few seconds.

He makes a hiss of pain before he trips, and I fall from his arms, slamming into the snowy surface. The cold bites and nips at my cheeks and scrapes across my bare middle, as I blink, trying to find Damien.

He collapses to the ground, shock on his face, as my stomach tightens even more. As if my monster is itching to save him, my heartbeat starts lowering on its own…that panic slowly rising to the surface.

It stalls when Damien quickly jumps back to his feet, and then I see what took him down. There’s an arrow through his heart that has him cursing, as all the many pairs of eyes swing to us at once.

There’s a heady pause, like they’re getting their first visual and are surprised by it. I’m panting heavily, as Damien yanks the arrow out of his heart, glaring at Abby, as she smirks and lowers her bow.

“I have no idea which Morpheous he is, but kill him,” she says before her eyes flick to me. “And kill the girl in the hideous bra too.”

Wolves snarl as they start pressing forward, no longer running around in frenzy and searching for what they can’t see.

A chill spreads up my spine like there’s a warning in the air. The front row of wolves whimper and fall back when the wind whispers and the slush falls harder, chilling the air all the more.

A few wolves even whine and stumble over themselves like they’re trying to move back, as Damien grabs my hand and yanks me to his side.

“For once, I’m happy to fucking see you,” Damien says in cold relief, just as he glances up.

Following his gaze, I look up to see shadow dropping from the top of a massive tree, and I track the rapid descent, as the form becomes really clear.

Snow sprays into the air as the scary vampire lands in a hard crouch in front of me, and he casually straightens, while rolling his shoulders back. Some wolves turn and bolt; others snap at him from a safe distance.

Arion turns and smirks over his shoulder at me. Barely, I notice Abby’s eyes widen while she pales.

Arion blocks her from view when he turns around and pulls his jacket off. I keep expecting them to attack his back as he bends and puts his jacket on me, but I’m frozen stiff, overwhelmed by everything.

“I got you a nice coat for your birthday, love. You’ve just failed to come see me about your present,” he tells me before he taps my chin, taking his time to chat with me like there aren’t rabid wolves foaming at the mouth just behind him.

When I simply gape at him like he’s an idiot, he turns, and the darkest smile spreads over his lips. “Come on, charmer,” he says as he pulls out a dagger of some sort and tosses it to Damien. “It’s been a while since we had some fun together.”

“I still fucking hate you,” Damien says as he catches the weapon at the handle and turns, slicing through wolves that decide to attack who they feel is the lesser threat. “But a psychotic vampire is better than a horde of stupid fucking werewolves.”

Armed with actual help and a weapon that doesn’t run out of ammunition, Damien starts cutting through wolves all around, staying out in front of me, as I back against the tree Arion dropped out of.

Arion moves so fast that I can’t track him, but I’m more concerned about Damien. He’s been shot with a bullet and an arrow, and he’s bleeding profusely. The arrow through the heart seems to have ended his illusion, which is his greatest weapon.

A thought presses to the front of my mind that I don’t want to think about yet: Damien knows I’m a monster who shouldn’t panic.

In Damien’s hands, that could very easily be blackmail information. What the hell was Emit thinking? It had to be him who told, because dead men can’t talk. Well, they can, but Damien ignores them unless I’m around.

Arion is suddenly at my side, and his strong arm wraps around me, pulling me to his body before I can protest. We’re moving before I even realize I’ve been lifted, and he carefully puts me behind him as he lands in the center of a lot of really angry wolves.

I was better off with just a tree at my back. Now I’m in the arms of a murderous vampire in the center of a bunch of murderous werewolves, who, quite literally, are out for blood.

My mind changes when just a blur of motion surrounds me, and wolves fall to a bloody heap before they can even push off from the ground. Arion is really good at killing things and making it look easy.