I needed information, but where the hell could I find books on winged lizards that weren’t pure fantasy fiction? All the books in the den’s library had been specifically put there by my father and his soldiers. Our reading selection was limited, and I was a social pariah who’d grown up with one friend. When I wasn’t with Mackiel, I was training with Rust or alone in my head, wishing I could freaking sleep.
I’d read everything in the den library.
There were no books on weapons that could pierce dragon hide or regarding dragons in general, since our inventory hadn’t exactly been restocked since the Mondeine found out about magic and threw the world into war.
I’d always been curious about what proper libraries offered, which was likely how I found myself across the street from one now, contemplating stupidity.
Six hours at the gym and my brain still wouldn’t shut the hell up. The dragon’s threat kept ringing through my mind like adeath knell. He was coming for me. Whatever intentions Dad had for the bloodstone, they weren’t worth the lives of our pack.
Confident the alpha would feel the same, I needed to know if I could take the stone and bolt if necessary. The dragon wanted me and the artifact. He’d follow, and my pack would be safe.
Having already doused myself in Sereana’s concoction to hide my scent, I cautiously neared the pack boundary line. Every wolf who’d gone through the Bloodrite was bound to the alpha’s will. Disobeying a direct order was supposed to be physically impossible. Mack had described it as hitting a wall inside his own mind, an override that seized his muscles before his body could betray the pack.
I’d never tested it. Not really. I’d fudged the edges a few times, skirted the spirit of a command while technically obeying the letter, but I’d never planted both feet on the wrong side of a line the alpha had drawn.
My heart hammered as I stepped off the crumbling sidewalk and onto the street.
Nothing happened.
No wall. No override. No invisible hand yanking me back by the spine.
I stood on forbidden ground, breathing hard, waiting for the consequences to find me, but there was nothing.
Relief hit me first. If the dragon came for the pack, I could grab the bloodstone and run. I could draw him away from our people, away from Tali and the pups and everyone who’d be in danger. The pack would survive, and that was all that mattered.
But the relief curdled almost instantly, replaced by something cold and unsettling that settled in the pit of my stomach.
The Bloodrite hadn’t stopped me.
Why?
Every wolf in the pack was leashed by it. Mack, Rust, soldiers twice my size and three times my rank, no one could defy the alpha’s authority. The binding was absolute. It was the foundation of everything we were.
And it didn’t work on me.
I didn’t know what that meant, but it couldn’t be good. Another way I was mistaken. Another crack in the illusion that I belonged here. If anyone found out—ifHitchfound out—the whispers about Jillian would be nothing compared to what they’d say about the half-breed demon wolf that even the alpha couldn’t control.
The library across the street watched me with dark, empty windows. I wanted to go in. Wanted to lose myself in a fictional world that had no dragons, but I didn’t dare. Not today. Not with this new secret sitting like a stone in my gut beside all the others.
I backed across the boundary line, pulse racing for entirely different reasons now. Turning, I hurried home to shower. Then I pulled Mackiel’s old T-shirt on, breathing in his scent. He was at the farm training recruits, and this was the last shirt he wore before leaving. Considering that was a month and a half ago, I should have washed it, but there were some days I just needed his scent, and this was one of them.
I collapsed on my bed, realizing my mistake when I tried to stand up and found I lacked the energy and the willpower. My eyes grew heavy, and it felt so good every time they closed.
Darkness.
The hair on my nape bristled as déjà vu hit. Another dream. A freaking recurring nightmare. Had to be.
The air chilled, sending a series of shivers up my spine.
I rolled my shoulders and cracked my neck, refusing to show fear, and muttered, “This is getting old.”
Thick and oppressive silence was my only answer.
My pulse kicked up despite my best efforts. Where the hell was he? The void stretched in every direction, empty and infinite. I turned slowly, searching for movement, for anything.
The darkness shifted, and the scaly beast appeared about a hundred feet away, every bit as awesome and terrifying as he’d been in the first dream. He stalked toward me, those menacing vertical pupils locked on my every move.
He was getting too close.
