My teeth and skeleton are rattling out of control. Every bone colliding against itself, scrambling my brain and organs into mush.

My body twitches in response to the surplus of power, convulsing, thrashing, taking on a mind of its own.

It takes a long few moments for me to settle—at least, that’s what I think—except for my right arm which can’t stop quivering.

I’m lying on a bed of sand, that’s what it feels like. I can’t be sure how I landed on sand and I can’t make anything out. My eyelids are unusually heavy, giving me only blurry glimpses of my surroundings.

There’s no noise, no sound, no wicked winds beating against my skin and hair. There’s only silence that dreaded silence that always accompanies the end of life.

I think I’m dead.

My racing heartbeat threatening to implode within my chest proclaims otherwise. It also calls me a bitch for putting us through whatever the hell I put us through this time.

Somehow, I manage to pry open my eyes. As I watch, the once tumultuous clouds part, revealing the sun in all its morning glory.

For one quick breath, peace is all I see and feel. That tranquility, however, is abruptly obscured by Gemini’s face, his expression fierce as he clutches me against him.

He’s speaking fast. Not that I can hear him.

“What?” I ask, my voice sounding muffled.

I think he’s yelling. That’s what it looks like. His lips move slower and his features further tense. Something pops in my right ear and his voice fades in and out.

“God damn . . . crazy . . . the fuck . . . die . . . seriously. . . die . . .”

“What?” I ask again.

He lowers me, standing abruptly and peeling off his shirt.

A bombardment of little popping sounds overtakes my right ear. Emme appears in my line of vision. She takes Gem’s shirt and drapes it over me.

“Gemini’s angry,” she says, her voice barely perceivable. “About you devouring the storm. He’s right, Taran. You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I ate a storm?” I ask, my voice stuttering out of control.

She turns to where he’s pacing, and I think swearing, too. “Perhaps it’s more accurate to say you devoured Destiny and Johnny’s combined magic. Well, at least your arm did.” She tucks a strand of her hair when it falls around her cheek. “Whatever happened allowed Destiny to pass. She’s off the mountain and headed away from Squaw Valley.”

Emme sounds as if she’s under water. It’s only because I’m straining to hear and reading her lips that I catch as much as I do. “Is she all right?” I manage.

“I don’t know,” she replies. “She was screaming as she passed. The Elders were trying to shield her like the witches shielded Johnny. It wasn’t enough.” She folds the shirt around my waist. “But you were. You were everything they needed.”  

“Dude,” Shayna says. She shoves her face in mine as the pressure dulling my left ear eases slightly. “That was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen.” She thinks about. “Except for the time you set the entire sky on fire. That was pretty cool, too.”

She pulls off her shirt and tugs it over my head, leaving her wearing only a sports bra. I don’t know why everyone continues to take off their clothes and cover me until I realize I’m naked.

“What the hell?” I ask, scrambling to push up on my elbows.

I fall perfectly still when I realize my legs are bent at the knee and I’m buried in blue ash from my shins down.

Shayna holds out her hands. “You should have seen yourself, T. It’s like Thor himself swung his hammer and brought it down on your arm —only there was no, you know, hammer. Just lightning. Lots and lots of lightning.”

“Uh-huh,” I say, grateful I missed the show.

I try wiggling my toes. Turns out I can’t. For now, I’m just thankful they’re still attached, given Shayna’s oh-too descriptive visual of me being nailed into the earth.

Emme ties Gemini’s shirt around me like a skirt when I sit up. “You sort of . . . exploded,” she explains. “And the blast disintegrated the ground.”

The retelling becomes too much for Gemini. He abandons his cursing fit and lifts me in one smooth move, placing me further back and near what resembles a burning shoe. My charred outline remains on the ground. With a trembling hand, I try to toss my hair over my shoulder, except all I feel is bare skin. I gasp, thinking I’m bald.

“It’s still there, T,” Shayna assures me, her words releasing in spurts of sound. “It’s just sticking up a little.” She does an arching motion around her head. “Like an afro. But I think Genevieve can fix it and give you back your eyebrows.”

“My eyebrows?” I ask, not wanting to believe what came out of her mouth.

“Totally,” Shayna adds, nodding. “You fried them and your lashes clean off.” She holds out her hands. “But don’t worry. I don’t think anyone will notice and, on the plus side, you may never need another bikini wax again.”

“Oh, God,” I whimper, touching my face. All I feel is smooth skin and lots of ash.

I look up to where Genevieve and Ines elegantly wait. But don’t you worry one damn minute, they’re fine and still very much have their eyebrows. In fact, both raise theirs when they get a gander of me.

Their beautiful maiden gowns sway in the dying breeze, along with their silky hair. Meanwhile I’m standing in a tube top that barely keeps my breasts in, a ripped T-shirt for a skirt, and the only hair on my body levitating in the air.

“How’s it going?” I ask, stepping forward.

“Fine,” Ines replies, her French accent thick and just as lovely as her face, even as it fades in and out. “Et toi?”

“Oh, I’m dandy. Just missing some hair.” I shrug. “It happens, you feel me?”

She nods. Sort of.

Vieve can’t stop staring at my forehead. “That was quite a display of power, Sister Taran,” she says. I can barely hear her, but I don’t think she’s whispering. Like my sister and Ines, her voice is most like a muffled and distant echo, its pitch alternating from almost normal, to barely audible.

“Tell me about it,” I say. Her eyes widen. “What’s wrong? Am I yelling?”

She appears almost afraid to answer, looking to my sisters for guidance. “Ah, yes.”

“Oh. Sorry.” I stop just in front of her, muttering through my teeth. “You can fix this shit, right?”

“I . . . hope so,” she says, casting an apologetic glance in Gemini’s direction.

Awesome.

I continue forward, trying to strut and failing miserably. With how bad my arm continues to jerk and twitch, I can’t even walk a straight line.

My focus travels to Johnny where he’s sitting on the ground. He looks weak, tired, and is breathing fast, but he’s no longer screaming in agony, nor does he seem in pain. I’m glad. I don’t know him, but it was hard to watch him suffer like he did. And poor Destiny, I can’t help thinking she’s worse off.

Not that I’m the only one who’s thinking of her.

Tye appears ready to charge. If it weren’t for the wall Bren and Koda are making with their colossal bodies, and the way Gemini’s twin wolf continues to circle him, Johnny’s blood would be dripping from Tye’s fangs. Johnny can sense as much, his full attention on Tye.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Gemini mutters tightly. I didn’t know he was behind me, my hearing still out of sorts. He adjusts my clothes, making sure I’m covered. “You could have been killed.”

My hands fall against his skin, leaving blue and white soot marks. I try to wipe it off, only to give up when I make it worse. “I didn’t have a choice,” I say, hoping I’m keeping my voice soft. I motion to the damaged trees surrounding us. “We were all going to die.”

“That doesn’t automatically make you the go-to sacrifice.” He releases me slowly as if it pains him. I want to reassure him except I don’t get a chance. He leaves me and walks to where the wolves await his orders.

I wish we could leave. But as much as we’ve already faced and fought through, his job isn’t done and our situation is far from over.

I hurry behind him, at least I try to. Something is off in my balance, and the world isn’t quite as I remembered it.

Mounds of blue and white ash expand across the perimeter, creating a flower with petals extending out in sharp sweeps. My guess is, the way all the bolts intertwined, I was hit with one mighty blow, the residual power branching out of my body and creating the blossom.

Each step I take reminds me of the soft, powder sand along the Caribbean beaches, except instead of white sand, there’s ash in swirls of blue and white. It must have been something to see, but it was a whole something else to perform it. I don’t think I was unconscious long, just long enough to settle the weather-beaten atmosphere and stop the earth from quaking.

If I had to repeat the process, I’m not positive I would be able to, or if I’d survive. I pretty much followed my arm’s instincts and magic, unsure exactly where she’d lead us.

Shayna helps Emme forward until both stand beside me. I hadn’t realized I’d stopped walking. The way the earth continued to sway, I assumed my legs were still moving.

“What happened exactly?” I ask, watching the world pitch from side to side and briefly pondering if it might be me and not it.

“You blew up and everything around you,” Shayna tells me. “But whatever you took, you took for the team. The earth rumbled at our feet, but we didn’t feel the impact.” She gives me the once-over. “I mean, not like you.”

“Good,” I say, thankful I didn’t barbecue the entire mountainside and everyone on it.

Shayna clasps my hand when I take another few steps. It’s then I realize I’m headed away from everyone and into the woods. “Are you okay?” she questions.

“Sure. Why do you ask?” I answer, wondering why there are two of her.

Both Shaynas blink back at me. “You’re wobbling. Not in a bad way, more like a baby learning to walk.” She looks around and behind me. “You might try walking with your legs closed, if you can.” She crinkles her nose. “That skirt you have going on wasn’t made for squatting, if you know what I mean.”

I nod slowly, noting how dizzy the motion makes me. “All right.”

“I think you need help,” Emme says. The soft touch of her fingers brush against my cheek before I can ask her who she’s talking to. “There could be something off in your system.”

“Could be,” I agree.

“I’m over here, Taran,” she says, carefully. “That’s a tree you’re speaking to.”

“Sorry, I didn’t notice,” I say. And I still don’t notice now.

“Oh, I see,” Emme says quietly. “You ruptured your eardrums, and you have some ah, bruising at the base of your skull.”

Almost immediately, the world rights itself. I feel myself straighten and my balance returns. “Better?” she asks.

“Yes,” I reply. I didn’t realize how bad I was until she fixed me. I sigh and fuss with my makeshift skirt. “Much better. Thank you.”

Gemini frowns in my direction, his voice low as he speaks into his cell phone. He must have heard my conversation with Emme and is likely bothered by how much I tried to mask.

He disconnects, looking to Tye. “Destiny is safe. The Elders have settled her at one of our strongholds.”

“How is she?” Tye asks, his glare cutting in Johnny’s direction. “‘Safe’ isn’t good enough and doesn’t tell me shit.”

Tye stands naked, giving us a full view of his muscles and everything else God gave him because Tye is were and doesn’t give a damn.

“She’s sick, Tye,” Gemini answers. “Whatever happened left her weak.”

My wolf doesn’t bother to sugar-coat anything, but I was counting on a little hope.

“Is she in pain?” Tye asks.

“No, not like before. Mostly weak and fragile.”

“How fragile?” Tye curses when Gemini doesn’t answer. “Just tell me.”

The silence between them is almost too much to take. “She’s dying, Tye,” Gemini tells him. “The Elders don’t think she has much time left.”

Shayna sucks in a breath. All I can do is cover my mouth.

The color drains from Tye’s face. “That’s not possible,” he says. He glances around as if searching for something. “She was fine yesterday. I talked to her on the phone. She wanted to meet up when she returned—”

Gemini meets him square in the face, silencing him instantly. “I’m sorry,” he tells him. “You have the Pack’s deepest condolences, and I swear, we’ll help you and Destiny anyway we can.”

Tye doesn’t seem to hear him or understand. Shock riddles his features only to be displaced by an unrelenting fury. “How the fuck is she dying?” Tye asks, his eyes glistening with all the pain he feels on behalf of his dear friend. “She’s a Destiny. Destinies don’t die. They keep going until another is born to take her place.”

“Another did take her place,” Ines responds, her tone flat as she scrutinizes Johnny. “Just not in the way any of us could have predicted.”

Tye hones in on Johnny. “Bullshit. He’s not taking her place,” he says, his stone-cold tone, holding everyone in place. “That’s not how this is supposed to work.”

“How is it supposed to work?”

Emme’s words are barely noticeable, the breeze rustling the thick pine needles and the tension stabbing the air drowning out her meek voice.

“Tye, Destiny is our friend,” she says, her stare softening as she looks at Tye. She wipes a tear that falls. “None of us want anything to happen to her, and I’m not trying to upset you. I merely want to understand what’s happened so I can help, or somehow make this right.”

“There is no making this right, Emme,” Tye tells her. He regards the witches, the anger he’s feeling punching out every syllable. “Is there?”

Genevieve replies, the way she adjusts her hold over her long staff making her appear more regal. “It’s with great regret I share what I do,” she begins.

“I’ll bet it is,” Tye says.

She ignores the slight, looking to Ines who nods in a way a doctor would when he tells a new resident to pull the plug.

“The creation of Fate and Destiny are determined by powers and magic beyond ours,” Genevieve explains. “And while they share abilities such as their accuracy for predicting the future, that’s where their similarities end and where the magic bestowed upon them collides.”

“Resulting in all this,” I say, motioning to the devastation around us.

“Yes, Taran,” she agrees.

For the first time since I’ve known her she appears at loss. What I wouldn’t give for her to know what to do and make everything right.

She adjusts the hold over her staff again. I don’t believe it’s a nervous gesture. I think she’s preparing to act against Tye, unsure how he’ll respond to what she tells him. “Because of the chaos their mutual existence brings, the first born, be it Destiny or Fate is allowed to live. Whoever follows must be killed within the first year of life.”

Emme’s horror reflects in Shayna’s features. Koda stiffens, his need to comfort her warring with his obligation to guard Tye. “But it’s not his fault,” Shayna says, eyeing Johnny.

He sits on the ground, his arms curled around his legs, trying to stay warm and attempting to shield himself from what’s coming. “No,” he says. “It’s not my fault.” His expression is blank as he looks ahead. He’s been very quiet, not wanting to risk disturbing the lion in his presence. “I didn’t choose to come into this world, and I didn’t choose to be what I am.” He turns to look at me. “Just like the rest of you. Can’t you see, my only crime is being born?”

“No, not your only crime,” Tye says.

He’s referring back to the witch law, the one that states Johnny has to die.

“It may be a crime to have two of the same or whatever,” Shayna says, appearing to struggle with everything happening. “But why does death have to be the penalty? Johnny has gone this long without anything happening to him or Destiny.” She shakes her head, causing her long dark ponytail to swing along her back. “I mean, up until they met both were living and okay.”

“But the world wasn’t,” Genevieve reminds her. She looks at Johnny. “You’re what? Twenty-two?”

“Twenty,” Johnny mumbles, lowering his head.

“And what’s happened over these past two decades?” Genevieve questions. “We’ve had Tsunamis strike the earth, quakes that have leveled cities and buried humans alive, demon lords that found a way into our world, one supernatural war, another just beginning, and the start of an evil even the strongest among us will fall to.”

I don’t move, listening, remembering.

“Look at all we’ve faced since the coming of the Fate.” She points to my arm. “Look at all the inconceivable disruptions and betrayals. Our appointed Guardians of the Earth turned against each other, and cast a blow that could have finished us all.” Her lips form a firm line when I tense. “All this darkness, we’ve blamed on simply darkness itself. But now we know the real cause.”

“But why is all this happening to Destiny and Johnny now?” Shayna questions, motioning to Johnny with a tilt of her sword. “If this is all real and how it’s going to go down, why didn’t they react this way sooner?”

“Proximity,” Genevieve replies. She turns in Johnny’s direction. “I presume you’ve never been close enough to trigger such a clash?”

Emme interrupts before Johnny can answer. Like me and Shayna, she wants to spare him. “So if they’d never crossed paths, both would be fine and no one would have suffered?”

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way, Emme,” Genevieve responds. “As much as their powers collide, their magic eventually calls to each other, forcing them to meet.”

“Oh, my God,” I say, rubbing my face. I glance up to see everyone watching me. “Destiny had never heard Johnny’s music. But she told us that something about it called to her. She had this strange look on her face when she said it. I should have guessed something was wrong.” I glance at Johnny. “I’m sorry. I should have kept them apart.”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference,” Genevieve says. “When their magic calls, they must answer. It’s too powerful to resist. They would have found a way to meet.”

“All right. They met. But what if we keep them separated?” Emme offers. “If we put enough distance between them, perhaps Destiny can recover.”

“Impossible,” Ines replies. “The world can only have one Fate or one Destiny, its magic has insisted upon it since the formation of magic itself.”

“What if Fate goes and Destiny stays?”

The malice behind Tye’s question is so blatant it reeks of poison. The wolves gather around him, closing their circle.

“Uh-uh,” he says, pointing at Johnny when he scrambles back. “You weren’t supposed to live, she was.”

Tye leaps, changing, his large claws protruding and aimed at Johnny. The wolves collide against him, trying to hold him back, their bones crunching from the force of the impact.

Johnny takes off in a sprint. As Shayna and I rush after him, the eagle inked into his shoulders sprouts from his back, growing as it extends and flaps its wings. He separates from Johnny, clutching his arms and lifting him away.

My lightning builds as my arm shoots out, sending a bolt straight into the now immense bird. Johnny screams, and the eagle explodes in a wash of color, dropping Johnny on the hard forest floor.

The small stones and debris dig into my feet. I ignore the sting, anxious to reach him before he attempts his next great escape. We find him trying to crawl away, the skin on his shoulders where the eagle emerged raw and blistering. He’s sobbing, but I don’t think it’s just from pain.

“I’m sorry,” I say, knowing I hurt him, and recognizing how much he hurts in return.

“I didn’t ask for this,” he says, thick tears dripping onto the ground in front of him. “I didn’t ask for any of it.”

Shayna rubs her nose, trying to beat back the tears. We know how he feels, just like we know there’s not a damn thing we can do about it. “I’m sorry,” I repeat quietly. “But we can’t let you leave.”

“Tye,” Genevieve says, her voice tense and stern. The wolves have secured him again, and he’s returned to his human form. But he’s still fighting, making it hard to keep him in place. “It’s not in your charge to kill a Fate or a Destiny that duty, as witches, is ours alone.”

“But you won’t fucking do it, will you, Genevieve?” Tye demands, the skin on his face and neck straining with each word. “You’re going to keep him alive now that Destiny’s dying because you need a new royal to worship. Even though most of you bitches shunned the one who was always there—always. No matter how many God damn times you’d rip her apart the moment she turned her back.”

Emme gasps. I don’t blame her. This isn’t the Tye we’ve known.

Genevieve raises an elegant brow, ignoring the insult. “Our laws only permit the execution within that first year. Killing him now would be murder and could potentially send the world on a collision course.” The small crease along her forehead relaxes when he doesn’t appear to budge. “Don’t you see, Tye? Fate and Destiny are as much a part of the world as the magic that defines us. Without either, there’s no predicting what will happen.”

“That’s all you care about, isn’t it?” he yells. “Some pussy lackey to give you the heads up!”

“Tye, listen,” Genevieve urges.

“No, you listen. He did this to her!” Tye growls. “He made her sick and he’s making her die. If he goes, she’ll live.”

“We do not know that, young lion,” Ines interrupts.

“One way to find out,” Tye says, lunging forward.

“You kill me, the tigress and her babies die.”

My head whips in Johnny’s direction, sparks of fire exploding from my fingertips. “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” he says, his reddening face meeting Tye as he answers me. “There’s a tigress. Not a were, but a woman who becomes one. I’ve seen her and the wolf she calls her mate in my visions. Those children they’re supposed to have, they’ll meet their fate with me.” He huffs. “You listening? Hurt me and they’re the ones who’ll pay the price.”

“You’re lying,” Tye accuses.

“Am I?” Johnny fires back. “Why don’t you try me and see?”

“Don’t,” Emme says, veering around her eyes brimming with tears. “Tye, you can’t risk anything happen to Celia.” He doesn’t respond. “Destiny is your friend,” she tells him. “But Celia is, too, and there’s a great deal riding on her survival.”

“No,” Tye says. “That’s straight out shit and you’re all eating it up. He needs to die. Don’t you see? It’s the only way to save Destiny!”

I’m so out of my mind right now, it’s all I can do not to light Tye up like a torch. He lunges forward again, and again, his animal side taking over all reason the man within him knows.

“Don’t do it,” I plead. “Don’t hurt Celia!”

“He won’t,” Gemini answers. He snatches Tye by the throat, his vicious stare drilling into him. “You ever threaten Celia or her children’s safety, I’ll kill you myself.”