Once home, I changed clothes, then went for an evening run, hoping to wear myself down enough to sleep. Hours later, I returned home exhausted, showered until well after the water went cold, then went to bed without checking my phone. Despite my exhaustion, I couldn’t sleep. I wasn’t sure if it was the dark elf magic buzzing through my body—keeping me perpetually on edge—or my conscience. It was the right call, I reminded myself, a useless refrain that couldn’t save me from a downward spiral of guilt and anger. I harangued myself for not intervening sooner, and I harangued Sky for creating the situation that required my intervention.

The battle continued inside me until it finally exhausted itself with the early glow of dawn. Instead of rising, as was my ritual, I fell into a restless, short-lived slumber. After only a few hours, I woke wondering just how long it would be until Sky showed up at my door to confront me.

I was making a breakfast of steak and eggs when her car lurched to a halt in the driveway. She slammed the car door and was on the porch a moment later, knocking with a loud urgency. I turned off the stove with a snap of the control, set aside the frying pan, then strode to the door. For a moment, I just stared at it, expecting it to melt from the heat of her anger.

When I opened the door, I found her glaring up at me, a molten fury in her eyes, her lips twisted into a hateful scowl. Her body was rigid, leaning toward me, with her fists clenched at her side. Frowning, I stepped aside for her to enter. She slammed the door behind her and stood speechless inside the entryway.

If looks could kill. I leaned against the wall, patiently waiting for the volcano to explode.

She tried to calm herself, taking a few breaths before finally asking in a restrained voice, “What did you do to me?”

I rolled my eyes. Do we really have to go through the obvious? “You know what was done. Don’t ask silly questions. Why don’t we get on with it? Throw your tantrum, yell, and tell me how hurt and violated you feel. Call me whatever creative insults you’ve come up with and when you’re finished with your little show—go ahead and let yourself out.”

I had no illusions of being forgiven.

“Why?” she demanded through clenched teeth.

“Why do you think? If you can’t stop indulging every childish urge that overtakes you, then we have no choice but to intervene. If it is any consolation to you,” I added softly, “I do not enjoy cleaning up your messes.”

“What you did was cruel and unnecessary. You could have just asked.”

“Would you have agreed?” I asked, challenging her.

She hesitated, knowing I was right but still clinging to her righteous indignation.

“That’s exactly why I didn’t,” I added.

Her cheeks burned crimson as her anger came flooding out. She shouted, punctuating her accusations by stabbing her finger toward the floor, “You had no right to do that to me! I know that somewhere behind that monster you put on display at every given moment, there has to be a real person. A person who balks at the way you treat people.”

I frowned at her. I didn’t create problems. I solved them. “Josh’s affection for you has compromised his reasoning. It is unfortunate, because there is no way in hell you should have ever been allowed to keep that form of magic. So I had to clean up his mess and yours before things got out of hand. A situation that should have been avoided in the first place. You need to get over it.”

I should’ve seen the punch coming. As often happened with Sky, I underestimated her. The blow struck the side of my mouth, snapping my head sideways. She wore a thin, triumphant smile as I turned back to her. Satisfied? Before I could ask, she punched me again. I spat out blood, wiping a smear of it from my mouth. My wolf rose to the surface, drawn by the violence. When she reached back to strike once more, I stepped forward, grabbing her fist while it was still cocked back. I drove her back against the wall, pinning both of her hands next to her head and pressing my body against hers to keep her from wriggling free. Her lips pressed together as she tried to sweep my leg. I blocked her, shifting my hip. Glaring down at her, I resisted the primitive impulse to strike back.

My eyes locked with hers. I turned my head to spit out the blood building in my mouth, then ran my tongue over my front teeth to confirm they were intact.

The fury burning in her eyes was fueled by pure, righteous hate. “You hide behind the false dogma that your actions are necessary to protect the pack,” she said. “That’s a load of crap! You do cruel things simply because it brings you pleasure. You are a sadistic, cowardly, self-absorbed asshole that enjoys behaving this way simply for the hell of it. And you are too much of a coward to admit it to yourself.”

After everything I’ve done for you—I scowled, shaking my head—you don’t even know me.

She sucked in a breath and continued her verbal onslaught. “You aren’t controlled by your wolf and your commitment to the pack. You are ruled by your narcissism and malice, and there isn’t anything humane about you. We might as well keep you in the zoo with the other animals.”

I waited for her to continue, listening to the furious beat of her heart and the sharp, rapid breaths of her lungs. “Are you finished?” I finally asked.

She glared back at me, lips defiantly pressed together.

“I asked a question. Are. You. Finished?”

She tried once more to slip away from me, but couldn’t. When she glanced down at my hips, I knew she was searching for a vulnerability.

“If Ethos is actually dead,” I explained, “you didn’t think it wasn’t going to throw up flags each time you used his magic? It’s so strong I can feel it miles away. Whatever is going on between you and Josh has made him complacent regarding your careless whims and irresponsible behavior. I do not have that problem. I will not allow you to destroy this pack because you lack impulse control.”

I stared into her eyes, waiting for some form of recognition. Was she so angry that she couldn’t see the truth? Disappointed, I frowned as I shook my head. “But you are too naïve and self-indulgent to understand the repercussions of your stupidity. There isn’t anything entertaining about it—it’s pitiful. You’re pitiful. Don’t worry, I won’t be pulling your ass out of the fire anymore. The next time you fuck up, and undoubtedly you will, I will let you burn for it.”

“Let me go,” she spat, but I saw fear beginning to take hold in her.

I’d let my anger get the best of me. My wolf fought to unleash itself and I found myself battling to keep it at bay. Every muscle in my body clenched with the effort. I struggled to relax, trying to breathe slowly, to unclench my jaw, but I’d reached a boiling point and was teetering on the edge of control. Growling, I pressed a hand to her chest and pushed her back into the wall, harder than I’d meant to. “Do you really understand the effects your actions have on things?” I shouted. “The problems aren’t just yours anymore. You are … no, we are dealing with things that we have never encountered, and the only thing you can do is screw up!”

Sky opened her mouth to spit back a retort, but something surprised her. She flinched, as if shocked. The beat of her heart suddenly slowed to the point it struggled to beat at all, and her breath became a gasping struggle. Her gaze wandered, confused, as panic set in.

Sky?

“Get … off … me,” she gasped, weakly trying to brush me aside.

Her heartbeat became almost inaudible.

In my own panic, my eyes roved over her, desperately looking for something wrong, then settled on my hand pressed against her chest. I knew with a sudden, dark realization that I was killing her. I snapped my hand from her and stepped back, eyes wide with fear as I gaped in horror at her. The moment I broke contact, the beat of her heart strengthened.

What’ve I done? “Sky,” I pleaded, “I’m sorry.”

She pushed me, stumbled backward, then ran out the door. By the time I emerged from the house, her Honda Civic was backing out of the driveway in a rush. It stopped suddenly, then lurched forward as she sped off.

Both of my hands pressed against my temples, I tried to contain my self-directed fury as I stormed back into the house. I’d lost control, and the dark elf magic had nearly killed Sky. I had almost killed her. I lost myself to blind, self-directed rage.

Eventually I came to my senses to find myself standing among the remnants of my living room, my chest heaving as I caught my breath. Several jagged, fist-sized holes dotted the walls. Bookcases and tables were flipped over, contents spilled across the floor. The couch was on its end, leaning against the wall, its upholstery sheared away in rough strips. Turning, I saw the damage extended to the dining room. The table was broken in two, with a fist-sized hole at the epicenter. The chairs were reduced to long, jagged splinters.

Glancing down at the iridium band on my left wrist, I snapped it off and hurled it across the room. After a moment of fuming, I begrudgingly retrieved it. Iridium couldn’t contain the dark elf magic—that was obvious. But I couldn’t be certain it didn’t inhibit the magic. Without the bracelet, would I have killed Sky outright? I couldn’t take the chance. Taking a deep breath, I snapped the band back onto my wrist.

I sighed at the damage I’d done, but it wasn’t important, just wood and fabric—replaceable.

Looking for my phone, I picked through the rubble until I found it beneath the overturned couch. No calls from Sky. I called her, impatiently waiting through the rings, only to reach her voice mail. I hung up and called again. And again. When she didn’t answer, I threw my phone against the brick hearth of the fireplace, where it shattered into pieces.

Furious with myself, I sifted through the pieces and found the sim card intact. Retrieving a spare phone from the desk, I inserted the card, activated the phone, then downloaded the latest of my hourly backups from the cloud. Since most flashes of temper began with a phone in my hand, I’d streamlined the recovery process until it came as naturally as changing my clothes.

I can’t lose control again, I thought, taking a slow, deep breath.

I called Sky once more, cursed when it went to voice mail, then called Josh. “I’m on my way over,” I said, then killed the call.

I strode into Josh’s ranch without knocking and found him waiting in his leopard print chair, wearing a concerned expression. He rose to greet me as I walked into the living room.

“What happened?” he asked.

I stopped in front of him and whispered, barely able to believe my own words, “I nearly killed Sky.”

His expression hardened. “Be specific.”

“I specifically need you to figure out how to control this damn magic!” I shouted, then paced the living room while he remained unmoving, like a statue, observing me. “I got angry,” I admitted, irritated. “It just happened.”

“Ethan, if you can describe exactly what happened, it might help to identify the magic’s source.”

“You mean it might help you figure out how to use it for your own ends.” I sneered at him, instantly regretting it.

As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t tell him. Only dark elves had the power to kill with a touch. If I described what I’d done to Sky, he’d recognize the magic, and then my death sentence would hang over him, as well. I couldn’t allow that. “I don’t need to understand it,” I stressed. “I need to get rid of it, or at least shut it down.”

He suppressed his own temper, aware that I was withholding important information from him. He nodded, shrugged. “Iridium, then.”

I raised my left hand, displaying the bracelet on my wrist. “It didn’t stop me from nearly killing Sky.”

His mouth slightly opened in surprise. “Iridium suppresses all magic,” he insisted.

“That was the prevailing theory,” I snapped. Since dark elves were supposed to be extinct, I guessed no one had thought it worth remembering that their magic wasn’t entirely subject to the rules that applied to other magical creatures.

Josh pursed his lips and ran a hand through his tousled hair as he looked down at the floor. The longer he thought, the tighter his expression became. He didn’t have an answer, and I couldn’t tell him anything more without putting his life at risk.

I only just stopped myself from reaching down and flipping his coffee table across the room. Control, I thought, taking a slow, ragged breath. At the bottom of my exhale, I noticed on the table the copy of the drawing I’d seen there the other day, a sketch of three mystical books. A memory nagged at me.

“Is she okay?” Josh asked, distracting me. His voice was thick with concern.

I nodded, drawing out my phone. “She won’t return my calls.” I dialed once more. A few rings later, it went to voice mail.

“She’s upset,” Josh said. “Eventually she’ll calm down and she’ll understand it wasn’t intentional. If she can describe what she experienced ….” His voice trailed off under my glare. Rather than challenge me, he retrieved his phone from an end table and called her.

I watched with anticipation as he waited through the rings. After a moment, I knew she wouldn’t answer him, either. She’d assume he was calling on my behalf. At the moment, I doubted she’d talk to anyone. Judging by the anxious look on his face, I knew I was right.

“Go to her,” I said as Josh pocketed his phone.

“I will.”

“Now,” I insisted.

He frowned. “She’s upset,” he said carefully. “If I show up now, or the rest of the pack just happens to converge on her, she’ll know it’s you trying to smother her. Give her some time and space to process what happened.”

“Then I’ll go myself.”

He stepped in front of me as I walked toward the front door, reaching out to grip my arm. I instinctively flinched from his touch, drawing a wide-eyed look of surprise and hurt from my brother, until he remembered why and took a step back. I took one more deep but ragged breath. He was right. Confronting Sky was only going to drive her further away. In my emotional state, it was also dangerous, but I couldn’t just wait for her to confront me about what had happened. I’d nearly killed her. I needed her to understand that it was an accident. I couldn’t force her to talk to me, but I couldn’t just wait for her, either.

Without meeting Josh’s gaze, I said in a strained voice, “Go to her when you think it is appropriate.”

He nodded. “In the meantime, I’ll keep working on a solution for you.”

I was halfway to the door when he said with an accusatory tone, “It would help if you told me everything you know about the magic.”

I hesitated in stride, but only for a moment before I walked out the door without answering him.

As I approached my BMW, I felt a sudden dizziness. I paused, steadying myself, but the moment quickly passed. As I reached for the car door, I saw a man in a cheap blue suit staring at me from the copse of trees across the street from Josh’s driveway. Blood covered the chest of his white dress shirt, but he seemed unaffected as he stared at me.

“Are you in need of assistance?” I called to him.

He didn’t answer.

First glancing about for signs of trouble, I walked toward the man, then stopped in the middle of the street as I recognized Caroline’s father, Dennis.

Impossible.

“Was it worth it?” he asked from the side of his mouth, his dark glare unblinking.

Had Michaela lied? Had Dennis escaped? Both seemed unlikely. Something about him wasn’t right. I sniffed the air, expecting the smells of cheap booze, cologne, and blood, but found only the scent of pine trees and recently cut grass. As I started toward him, he turned and walked into the copse. By the time I reached the trees, he’d disappeared from sight. I burrowed through the dense foliage trying to pick up his scent, which was inexplicably absent.

Had I imagined him? I slowly massaged the stress from my temples, then returned to my BMW.

I sighed in relief as I turned onto the winding, secondary road that led to the pack’s retreat. We kept a number of homes in various locations, but the retreat was our primary gathering place. In times of trouble, it was our fortress.

After parking in one of my reserved spots in the garage—leaving my M6 next to my white Audi R8—I walked inside, intending to change and hit the basement gym when Sebastian called me into his office. Winter and Gavin were already there. I closed the door behind me and waited, ignoring his perpetual scowl.

After a nod from Sebastian, Gavin laid three photographs on the end of the Alpha’s desk and gestured to them. His gray eyes watched me closely as I stepped forward to examine the images of three young women, each of them eerily similar to Sky in appearance, with oval faces, full lips, and wavy mahogany hair. All three of them were dead. Two of the photos I’d seen before, but the third was new. My jaw clenched as I resisted the urge to punch my fist through a wall. It wouldn’t be the first or the last part of the house to suffer from all-too-common violent outbursts. A portion of the pack’s annual budget was set aside for unanticipated structural repair and furniture replacement, but Sebastian’s office was out-of-bounds. He’d never declared it so, but the pack had made it an unwritten rule.

“The Lost One has killed another one,” Gavin said heavily, referring to the vampire Quell. “He’s a threat. I think we should treat him as one.”

Kill Quell, you mean. Since they’d first met, he and Sky had shared an inexplicable bond. When Ethos had staked Quell a few months ago, Sky had intervened, feeding him with her own blood to stop the reversion. It shouldn’t have worked. For as far back as our histories remembered, were-animal blood had never been able to sustain vampires, but somehow she was an exception. I understood she felt a sense of obligation to him, but were-animals didn’t feed vampires.

The thought of her presenting her neck to him sickened me. I did my best to swallow my anger. I’d come to the retreat to set my temper aside and regroup. The last thing I wanted was another of her problems to solve. Killing Quell would be the simplest solution, assuming Demetrius didn’t take offense and start a war. It would be one more thing Sky would never forgive me for, one more time I’d been forced to save her.

“I agree,” I said, surprising Gavin. I explained to Sebastian, “He is unable to control himself, and he’s escalating.” Murderers always followed a path of progression, their crimes growing bolder and more gruesome. Natural killers, vampires were amoral and driven by a powerful bloodlust, but Quell was unique. From the moment of his creation, he’d seen himself as being above feeding on humans, or perhaps he’d simply despised them. Instead of indulging his natural instincts, he’d chosen instead to feed from the Hidacus, a rare plant with a bloodlike juice—until Michaela had destroyed his plants and forbidden him from obtaining another.

While the plant had offered sustenance, it had only been through a sheer act of will that he’d suppressed his bloodlust. But with his plants destroyed, he’d had no choice. When he fed at all, he’d often killed his victims—except when he’d fed from Sky. Somehow she’d remained immune to his bloodlust, for the moment at least. So of course she’d volunteered to become his food source, predictably to save others. After a warning from Sebastian, she’d tried to help Quell find a volunteer he could feed from without killing. So far, she was oh-and-three. Had Dr. Baker not intervened, there would’ve been a fourth victim.

He was no longer just Sky’s problem. He was the pack’s problem. We couldn’t have a vampire feeding on one of our own, and we couldn’t have him wantonly killing humans, either. Despite their cruelty, the vampires were aware of the risks of exposure and did their best to hide their activities. Most of the time they fed from the members of their garden—human volunteers who for some deranged reason gained satisfaction by submitting to the vampires. Other victims were often left dazed, confused, and weak from blood loss, but alive.

The only reason Quell could stop himself from killing Sky was that he claimed to love her. I stifled a chuckle. Vampires approximated love, a weak semblance of a remembered emotion that belonged to their former lives. At least his claims of love were protecting her, for the moment.

I scowled at the photos. Eventually, look-alikes weren’t going to be enough for him.

“Why should we solve Demetrius’s problems for him?” Winter said.

Gavin bristled. “If he can’t control his own, it’s up to us. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve put down a rabid vamp.”

Sebastian sighed, then looked to me. “Sky needs to learn to clean up her own messes.”

Over the last two years, Sky’d become a capable fighter, proving herself on the field of battle against Ethos, but she wasn’t prepared for a one-on-one fight with an experienced vampire. As Demetrius had once pointed out, Quell’s distaste for human blood had nothing to do with the idealization of humans. On the contrary, he despised them.

“He’ll kill her,” I stated.

Winter shrugged. “If we kill him for her, she’ll just find another vamp, or maybe a stray fae, to take in.”

“She won’t learn anything if she’s dead,” Gavin added.

Sebastian considered for a moment before announcing his decision. “So far, each of us have survived our mistakes, but we’ve known many were-animals who haven’t. We’ll do what we can to help Sky, but this situation is her creation. Whether or not she survives to learn from the experience is up to her.”

Until she realized that Quell was already dead, she was in danger. She was stubborn, and she believed that there was something redeemable in him. It wasn’t in her nature to give up and turn her back on someone she cared about, even a vampire.

I suppressed a growl as I left Sebastian’s office. I’d already failed Sky twice in less than twenty-four hours. While I couldn’t directly ignore Sebastian’s instruction and proactively kill Quell, I could put someone close enough to Sky to intervene when he finally broke and tried to kill her. If we killed him in the act, there would be no retaliation from the vamps.

I spent the next few hours working out my frustrations in the retreat’s gym, interrupted more often than I cared to admit by glances at my phone. At this point, I’d settle for an angry text telling me Sky never wanted to speak to me again. Anything was better than silence. On several occasions, I found myself dialing her number and disconnected before the call went through.

Josh was right, I reminded myself. Pressing her would only make her angrier. Eventually she would respond to him, if not me. I just needed to be patient.

I alternated between cardio and weights until I exhausted myself. After a shower and a meal, I went to work reviewing the various intelligence reports that had come in over the last week. We kept tabs on a number of potential problems, most of which would likely never materialize, but it paid to be proactive. When that was done, I remotely logged in to my work files and buried myself in contracts until I finally tired enough to sleep.