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While they argued about what vampire saliva did and did not heal, I knelt beside Duke. His nose and mouth were all bloody, but at least he was upright. “Hey . . . How you doin’? Can you walk out of here?”

His tongue lolled out and the big werewolf gave an acknowledging huff, which I guessed meant yes.

“You guys are going to have to carry Galbraith out. I can’t hold anyone and climb at the same time.”

“What about Gen Z?” Zee asked.

I eyed the unconscious loup-garou. She wouldn’t be out for long. Someone needed to deal with her. “Maybe we can take her back to the SSD? They have facilities . . .” I trailed off as I was met with two doubting expressions. It would take a long time for the SSD to reach us . . . and they’d lock her in a cell, away from everyone and everything. Killing her would be a mercy compared to that.

“While you chew on your morals, imma move the alpha.” Zee carefully lifted Galbraith and poofed outside, leaving sparks behind.

Jenny’s rhythmic breathing shortened. She was waking up.

“Sometimes cruelty is a kindness.” Victor made everything sound so reasonable, even murder.

Zee poofed back and tried to argue with Duke that translocating him out would be quicker, but nobody is picking up a werewolf who doesn’t want to be picked up. Despite limping badly, Duke made his own way out.

“Have you guys got this?” Zee asked us. “I need to get Galbraith to the vet lady before he fuckin’ dies and we get blamed for it. Again.”

“Yeah, go Zee, we’ve got this.”

Zee poofed away, leaving Victor and me to deal with the bloodthirsty loup-garou.

I sensed Victor moving closer, and said, “I don’t want to kill people.”

“I know.” His hand settled on my shoulder. “You’re not the same, Adam. There’s a kindness in your heart that even the horrors of this world cannot erase.”

My heart would save the world. That’s what the prophecy had hammered into me my entire life.

Jenny’s eyes flew open. She screamed, igniting that same horrible pitch as before. Victor dropped, hands over his ears, silently screaming.

Jenny sprang—at me.

Four claws thrust into my middle, lifted me off my feet, and slammed me against the den’s rock wall. Her scream cut off, but there was a new agony now, one of pain and burning in my gut, where her claws definitely should not be.

Victor knelt, panting, head down. Blood dribbled from his ear, down his cheek.

She’d hurt him.

And all that kindness in my heart Victor had spoken of rapidly evaporated.

“You should not have done that,” I growled, baring blunt human teeth.

Jenny’s thin, pale lips stretched into a grin. “Your soft heart makes you weak.”

I grabbed her outstretched arm, wrapped my fingers around it, and squeezed. “You’re wrong. My strength comes from my heart.” Without it, I’d have been as cold and vicious as my brother—as all of them. That’s why I was different, why I’d survived, and why I had to fight.

Her smile twitched, then fell away.

I tightened my grip.

She buckled, leaning into the pain.

I squeezed harder. The bones in her arm creaked.

“Wait—” Her claws withdrew, jerking from my middle, but I hardly felt it. I’d heal . . . she wouldn’t.

“My heart makes me stronger.”