PROLOGUE

The first time the moon bled, the wolves screamed.

Not the ordinary howling of animals calling to one another across the darkness. These were screams of pain. Of terror. Of something ancient waking after centuries of silence.

And beneath the earth, something answered.

Three hundred years before the fall of humanity, deep within the mountains of northern Europe, a woman stood barefoot in a circle of blood.

Her silver hair hung down her back, tangled with dirt and leaves. Her white dress was torn, and blood covered her hands. Around her, twelve wolves lay dead, their bodies arranged in a perfect circle beneath an enormous oak tree.

Above her, the moon was red.

The woman lifted her face toward it.

"They are coming," she whispered.

Behind her, a man emerged from the trees.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in black. His eyes glowed an unnatural shade of gold. A long scar ran from his left temple down to his jaw.

"You should have killed him when you had the chance."

The woman didn't turn.

"I tried."

"You could have destroyed him."

"And destroyed every living wolf with him."

The man laughed bitterly.

"Perhaps that would have been kinder."

She finally faced him.

"Do you know what happens if Malachi rises?"

His expression hardened.

"He will take what belongs to him."

"No." Her voice trembled. "He will take everything."

The man stepped closer.

"Then tell me what you saw."

The woman closed her eyes.

She had seen it all.

Cities burning beneath a blood-red sky. Humans running through streets filled with monsters. Children hiding beneath overturned vehicles while creatures hunted them. Entire packs tearing one another apart. Rivers running red.

And at the center of it all stood a young woman.

Dark hair.

Golden eyes.

A crescent-shaped mark glowing against her skin.

The girl stood surrounded by wolves, but none dared approach her. At her feet lay the body of a powerful Alpha. Behind her, an army waited for her command.

And beside her stood a man whose eyes were as blue as winter ice.

The woman opened her eyes.

"The first queen's blood will return."

The stranger went completely still.

"That's impossible."

"It was never destroyed. We only hid it."

"Where?"

The woman looked toward the eastern horizon.

"Among the humans."

The stranger grabbed her arm.

"Who carries it?"

She pulled away.

"I don't know her name."

"Then find her."

"I cannot."

"Why?"

The woman looked up at the moon again.

"Because the moment we find her, he will find her too."

A terrible sound rolled through the mountains.

The ground shook.

Every tree surrounding them bent as though an invisible wind had struck the forest.

The stranger dropped to one knee, clutching his chest.

"What is that?"

The woman's face went pale.

For the first time in three centuries, she felt genuine fear.

"He's awake."

Far beneath the mountains, something enormous opened its eyes.

Two burning red lights appeared in the darkness.

A voice traveled through the stone.

The queen's blood is alive.

The woman stumbled backward.

"No..."

The voice came again.

Find her.

The stranger rose, his wolf fighting beneath his skin.

"What do we do?"

The woman looked at him.

"Protect the bloodline. No matter what it costs."

"And if we fail?"

She swallowed.

"Then there will be no world left to save."

Three hundred years later.

October 31. 11:47 p.m.

The world was about to end.

And somewhere in a small American city, a twenty-four-year-old woman was getting ready for bed, completely unaware that the monster responsible for humanity's destruction had already spoken her name.

Gianna Hale.

The last blood of the first queen.

And the one person who could either save the world...

Or bring it to its knees.