A war raged around me. Wolf against human. And I lay on the grass, where the ground seemed to sway beneath me. Each inhale was a painful gasp, as if my ribs were crushed. I clasped my chest, the knife still embedded in me.

Tears flooded my eyes, but I kept looking into the same heavens I used to pray toward. Pray for finding the right partner and having a family, expanding my store to produce healing potions to help anyone in need, not just for those living in Terra.

But did any of that matter if I died?

A tremor ran through me. I’d lost everything. Death crowded the edges of my mind, coming for me. I regretted so many things. I should have dug deeper into what Grandma had meant about my parents’ demise. Discovered her secret compartment and letter earlier. Then I could have somehow avoided this ending.

A shadow fell over me, but I didn’t care who’d come to finish me. I could barely move.

“Little lamb.” Nero’s voice strained, and he dropped to his knees. “I’m removing the blade.”

“No!” I managed. “I’ll bleed too much.” Were my words slurring?

Blood streaked his cheeks, and a deep gash ran down the side of his face, droplets falling against my skin. The wound seemed to almost knitted back together before my eyes. Oh hell, how fast did these wolves heal?

But how many wolves and people had died because of the priestess?

“Go,” I stammered.

He lay a hand against my collarbone. “Don’t you dare leave us! Hold on.” His eyes glistened and right then, his genuine love for me shone through his actions, his words, his warmth.

He yanked the knife out, the sucking sound sickening to my ears.

I yelled, my body thrashing at the terrifying sting stabbing me.

Nero placed his palms against my wound. “Transform, little lamb.”

His words floated through my brain, torn away by the torture owning me. I cried out.

“I read the letter from your grandma. You’re part hunter. Change and you will heal quicker. You’re only part shifter and need the wolf side to help you.”

“I… I.” Nothing made sense when it felt as if someone had ripped me apart.

Nero’s lips were on mine, stealing my breath. Something warm dripped on my face, my body, and into my mouth. His blood.

A surge of energy flashed over me, and my skin prickled. My insides stretched. Each exhale was a knife slicing me. I writhed and a violent scream tore past my mouth. Bones cracked. My heart banged in my ears.

I was dying.

“Stop fighting it.” Nero’s voice found me, but my vision had darkened.

“Nero!” I called for him, but moving my arms now seemed an impossibility.

Energy jolted along my skin, and I gulped for air.

“Open your eyes,” he said.

I did and gawked at Nero kneeling next to me. The forest had grown sharper in color. As it had back in the prison. Grunts, whines, and the dull impact of punches reached me, each sound precise.

But the earlier stabbing in my chest had eased, and the agony disappeared. How?

Nero rubbed my head. “You look beautiful in your silver fur. And it looks like you’ve healed faster than I’ve ever seen anyone do.”

Fur! I opened my mouth to protest, but a yelp came out. I froze. Was that me? Whispers murmured calmness in my ears.

I scrambled to my feet… all four of them, scanning the area. So many sounds hit me—from the battle to the river in the distance to the songs of birds. The smell of blood engulfed me.

The piercing pain in my chest came and went, paralyzing me on the spot when it shook me at the core.

Nero was there, his arms around my torso. “I’ve got you. Now you need to run from here. Let us finish this once and for all.” He patted my rump and nudged me toward the front gates.

But I couldn’t move when I’d just turned into a wolf. The realization locked me in place, not a muscle moved, not even the panic jammed in my chest stirred.

Nero rushed into battle, and mid-launch, his body shifted with the grace of an eagle swooping through the air. Within moments, he landed on his paws, his white fur fluttering as he charged two guards holding down a wolf.

Bodies lay everywhere, both human and wolf, and it killed me. Dread punched me in the gut. Hollow and barren, reminding me of the stories I’d read about the different races in Haven fighting to the death. That was why the world had been divided into seven realms. To create peace—the opposite of what the priestess had done.

Toward the castle, I spotted her, holding her skirt and running into the manor. Before I could stop myself, I went after her, each step slow. Every now and then, my shoulder stung as if someone tossed boiling water over it. Obviously, healing as a wolf took time… A luxury I didn’t have.

I pushed one leg forward, and then another, gaining speed.

A dark wolf blur whizzed past me and thundered into the courtyard.

Oryn?

My legs refused to fall into a rhythm, and I stumbled into a tree. Heavens, how did anyone walk on four paws? Okay, one at a time.

Someone screeched from the manor, and I sped up. The moment I entered the cobblestone yard, I gasped.

Six guards cornered Oryn, while the priestess held a thin, long knife in one hand, poised in a striking pose above her shoulder.

“Grab him and hold him down,” she yelled.

My stomach somersaulted, and a guttural snarl rolled through me, shaking me. No one touched my shifter. A sense of possessiveness claimed me.

All gazes turned in my direction, and I lunged at the priestess, hating what she’d done to Terra, the fear she’d inflicted, and the merciless deaths.

She whirled around, her blade pointed at me.

Everything happened too fast, and I swore the wolf side of me pushed forward, reaffirming we had this. To trust her.

Nearby, Oryn jumped into his own assault, battling the guards. But one turned toward me.

Just out of reach of the priestess, I swung around her in a wide berth, then pounced up against the wall for leverage. The pain increased in waves, but I drove it back. I twisted and pivoted midair, hurling myself toward her.

She jerked around as I crashed into her, my mouth latching into her neck. We both fell to the ground, her blade falling, and me biting down.

Her cries meant nothing.

Blood hit my tongue.

Kill. My wolf bellowed. For my parents’ deaths. For Dagen’s brother. For Oryn’s pack members. And for the countless other wolves and humans.

A guard charged and kicked me in the ribs.

I crumpled, writhing, my pain deep, stinging and burning.

He hovered closer, his knife ready.

My blood painted the cobblestones as I teetered upright. Exhaustion crashed over me.

“Kill it,” the priestess shouted as she climbed to her feet, crimson coating her neck and gown.

I growled. No more backing away or feeling sorry for myself. I’d fight for what I believed in, stand up to the enemy.

Right when the guard lunged, I ducked and looped around him.

I bit into his arm, the one clasping the weapon, and tore through bone.

He grunted and collapsed to his knees.

Something flashed into the courtyard in my peripheral vision.

More guards? I spun to see two wolves! Nero rushing to Oryn’s aid, while Dagen slammed into the back of the guard I’d just bitten.

Now it was just me and the priestess.

I inched closer, my head low. Short, sharp throbbing settled over my shoulder blade as if someone poked me with a fire stick.

But no more hesitation. I’d heal if I survived.

When she ran across the yard to a set of doors, her gown swooshing at her feet, I leaped after her and head-butted the back of her knees.

She tripped and hit the ground face-first.

Oryn’s black wolf burst free from the scuffle and flew past me toward the priestess.

She swung in his direction, cowering, her arms covering her head.

Oryn attacked. Teeth slashing her neck, blood spurting. Her pleas and cries echoed, as did the hungry snarls and ripping of flesh.

I turned away, unable to watch the atrocity, kicking myself for ever thinking I was capable of such a kill.

Maybe that came with time, considering I hadn’t even gotten the whole walking on four legs thing perfected yet.

When someone brushed my arm, I flinched and whirled.

Oryn was there, blood matted in his fur and around his mouth, but he rubbed against me, releasing a low grumble. Behind him lay the priestess, unmoving, her legs twisted at wrong angles, her head facing the sky with dead eyes.

I should have cheered, but I couldn’t bring myself to celebrate. A life lost was still a wasted soul.

Nero closed in, his white fur tarnished, both shifters close.

Guards lay strewn across the ground, dead.

Dagen approached me without hesitation in his step. A wave of joy flooded me at knowing my three shifters remained safe and by my side.

Dagen nuzzled my arm when more wolves entered the courtyard and fanned out as a protective army.

Oryn broke into a piercing howl, and everyone else raised their heads, unleashing a cry of triumph. My wolf simmered in my chest, and I tilted my chin up, my contribution streaming past my throat.

Our songs intertwined, blending into the most incredible tune. For the first time since losing my parents and grandma, I no longer felt alone.