wolf? You’re surrounded by werewolves. Why me?”
“Because you’re different, and your wolf is different.” The flames
surrounding his hands flickered in his eyes, and the air hung with rage.
“Because your family took mine and left me incomplete, forced me to inhabit
this pathetic shell of a body. This is their fault, but you can fix it. Just tell me
where the fucking knife is.”
“No,” my wolf and I growled together.
“Okay, Savannah, how about I sweeten the pot?” He strode toward the
sleeping shifters and drew his fingers through the hair of a man in his
twenties. “You give me your wolf, and I’ll let you and all these people go. I’ll
swear a blood oath on it. If you don’t—well, I can’t ensure their safety.”
My stomach dropped.
I had to do something.
My wolf reared up in my chest, and I stumbled backward. I'll fucking tear
your throat out if you hand him that knife, she said.
“I’m not giving up the knife!” I shouted, both to him and to my wolf, as I
wrestled for control.
“Fine. I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way.” He dismissed the flame
from his hand, drew a vial of red liquid from his pocket, and took a sip.
Magic swirled around him, and he raised a hand. “Stop.”
To my horror, I froze in place. I could feel his magic inside me. In my
blood. My eyes darted to the vial.
He grinned as a trickle of red slipped from his lip. “You forget—I’m a
blood sorcerer, and I have your blood. Now, let’s start with something
simple. What are you doing in the Dreamlands?”
“Visiting Cavra,” I said before I could even attempt to resist. I clapped
my hands over my mouth.
His eyes widened. “Cavra? You little minx…” Suddenly, he stiffened as
a realization struck him. “What did she ask of you?”
“The bloodstone,” I replied through clenched teeth, willing my voice to