Chapter 17 · Try Taking Me

Vivienne stands in the blown-out doorway like she owns the moonlight. Four of her wolves flank her, halfway shifted, claws out. Their eyes glow pale yellow in the dark.

Darius is still holding me. His hand is on my throat where he bit me—except the wound's already closed. I can feel the skin knitting itself back together under his palm. It doesn't hurt anymore. It just burns.

"I'll make this simple," Vivienne says. Her voice carries across the warehouse like she's announcing a verdict. "Hand her over. Walk away. Your pack keeps breathing."

Darius doesn't move. His chest is still heaving. Blood—my blood—is smeared across his mouth. He looks half feral, eyes full gold, but he's not looking at Vivienne. He's looking at me.

"You can't hide her now," Vivienne continues. She steps over the threshold. Glass crunches under her heel. "Every wolf in the city can smell what she is. You've activated a royal bloodline, Darius. That's a death sentence for both of you."

I try to push his hand away. He doesn't let go.

"How many do you have outside?" Darius asks. His voice comes out rough. Barely human.

"Enough." Vivienne tilts her head. "Your beta's already down.