All my attempts at tracking Cole are futile. I manage to find out the room the group has occupied, but there's nothing that makes me feel suspicious. The list of people currently staying at the hotel is short, and they haven't been there long enough to raise any red flags. As I make my way inside the hotel, my ears pick up many things. Some of my people believe the Blood Moon pack is responsible for the deaths, since both of the murders are of werewolves belonging to our pack—Silver Crescent. I find that infuriating. I neither have the patience nor the time to deal with such nonsense. They can waste their time blaming each other, but I'm not going to do the same. Stepping outside, I see young members of our pack already lined up in groups to begin training. At least something is going right, I think, allowing myself to sigh in relief. But what am I going to do? Where can I go? Niall and his betas are scouring the forest. Jordan would be doing his part too. I close my eyes, asking my

Several minutes later, I stand outside the Blood Moon packhouse, gaping at its enormity. I'm already out of breath from running in the night as I wanted to get there as soon as possible. Whatever Melony had done to me—causing the nose bleed and the burning ear pain—had left me weakened. But as I take every step closer to Jordan, my body is slowly gaining strength. What am I going to say to him? I had called Jordan on my way to get the location of the packhouse. It was protected by the same magic that kept humans from finding the Luna’s temple. Only werewolves could locate the place. I had been eager to be there but now as the three-story concrete and glass house stands boldly in front of me, I feel hesitation rise in my chest. My thoughts are interrupted by the sudden opening of the double door entrance, guarded by two betas of the Blood Moon pack. The duo moves aside, giving way for Jordan to come out. The moment our eyes meet, I hear him sigh, and his tense shoulders immediately

A rancid stench in the cave forces me to open my eyes. It’s not the first time I’ve done that, but based on how my body feels, it could very well be the last. The notion of death scares me. And that, in turn, makes me angry. I’m yet to avenge the death of those I’ve lost. Dying is not an option. Nor is being scared. My eyes always have the same view—a hunter looming over me, holding a silver stake in hand; spitting mocking words if it's either Megan or Dan. If it’s Cole, then the words are more threatening; he never fails to call me darling. Carol, however, needs no stake. All she does whenever I regain consciousness is twirl her fingers in the air. I know I hate nothing else more than what follows that action. But this time when I open my eyes, I see something else. Someone else. Riley. The human holds no silver stake in her hands. In that state, Riley is as harmless as an infant, lying too still across me on the wet floor. With a sniff, I raise my head—something I haven't manag

*Five weeks later* Nessa woke up to a start, gasping for air. Her fists clenched the bedsheets in a poor attempt to calm herself. A moment ago, she was falling from an enormous cliff into an abyss, but that was just another nightmare. She had woken up to a reality that was far more miserable. Perspiration lined her body and her arm was bleeding again, the blood soaking into her white bed sheets. She ripped the useless bandage apart and gave the bullet wound a brief look before getting up. Outside, the world was still enveloped in darkness. Bellpond was quieter now than it had been before and one could smell the despair with every breath. Nessa found remnants of the herbs in one of the chest drawers. Hastily, she rubbed it over the wound. A hiss left her lips as the wound sealed itself, burning as if in contact with acid. There was no more left. That meant she'd need to see that wretched hybrid once more. Pulling a hoodie over her head, Nessa jumped out of the window and lande