Chapter 30 · The Night He Still Owes

"Don't move." I've got the knife at Jonah's throat, blade kissing skin, but my hand won't stop shaking.

The eye in the keyhole blinks. Blood drips upward from the altar stone—*upward*—pooling into that massive pupil like it's drinking.

"Nia." Rafe's voice cracks behind me. "Whatever she wants, don't—"

Celia laughs. It's wet, choking. She's leaning against one of the standing stones, hand pressed to her side where Kara's bullet caught her. Blood seeps through her fingers, but she's still on her feet. Still smiling.

"Ninety seconds," she says, waving her phone. Screen's lit. Timer's counting down. "Then the pact completes. Door opens all the way. Your wolf burns from the inside out."

I glance back. Rafe's on his knees ten feet away, both palms flat to the ground like he's trying to hold himself together. His skin's gone gray. Black veins crawl up his jaw toward his face.

"I'm fine," he says through clenched teeth.

"Liar."

The eye shifts. Pupil swivels straight at me. I feel it looking—not at my face. Deeper. Like it's counting every drop of Vale blood in my veins.

Jonah makes a soft sound under the blade. "Nia, I'm sorry—"

"Shut up." I press harder.