I couldn’t hold it in—the laughter burst out of me, sharp and jagged, slicing through the stillness of the forest grove like a blade. It echoed off the gnarled trees, their branches clawing at the silver moonlight, and I clutched my sides, gasping for breath. Lucien stood there, his stormy gray eyes narrowing, that infuriatingly perfect jaw tightening as my cackle rang out. “You’re the key, Selene,” he’d said, all grave and brooding, like some chiseled hero from a bard’s tale. “You can stop them.” Stop who? The vampires? The werewolves? The whole damned world? It was absurd—hilarious, even—and I couldn’t stop the sound bubbling up from my chest.
“Seriously, Lucien?” I wheezed, wiping a tear from my eye. “Me? The key? I can’t even shift without nearly clawing my own throat out. And you think I’m going to save anybody?” I gestured wildly at myself, my tattered gown still streaked with mud from the chaos of the past few days, my dark hair a tangled mess spilling over my shoulders. “Look
