Chapter 1

ONE

Asha

A hand presses forcefully over my mouth, waking me in an instant. Before I can think, I react, sending the person flying to the ground. Leaping out of bed, a growl rolls up from my belly, filling the air.

I’m breathing hard when I look down and see my mom lying on the floor under me. Her scent, that of lilacs and sunshine, washes over me, but I still feel like a wild animal. Like my wolf has taken control. My instincts are screaming to attack, but my brain is catching up, wondering why the hell my mom was pressing her hand over my mouth.

Luckily for her, my wolf calms. I calm even though my racing heart doesn’t. My clenched hands fall to my sides, and then I’m just staring down at her. Confused. Waiting for some kind of explanation.

“Asha.” Her voice breaks as she speaks my name. Almost like she’s holding back tears. And my mom… she never cries.

Damn it, did I hurt her? I spring back a little and reach out a hand, then help her to her feet. My gaze goes to her leg as she puts her full weight on it. Even though my room is too dark to see if I triggered any new pain from her old injury, I’m relieved when she seems to stand with ease.

“Mom?” Why does she seem so upset? What the hell is going on?

“Listen to me.” Again, there’s pain in her voice. Pain I don’t understand. “You need to take your sister and go to the End.”

A chill rolls down my spine and every hair on my body stands on end. No. No, she can’t be telling me to go there. The End is an emergency plan. The place our pack of misfits and half-breeds has been trained to go when we’re completely fucked.

I shake my head, trying to form a response.

“I had a vision.” Her words are low and ominous, dropping like stones between us. “We don’t have time to save everyone, but if we leave now, your siblings and I might just survive.”

She can’t really be suggesting we just run right now. “There’s nothing we can–?”

“Nothing,” she whispers. “Death. Blood. Destruction. It’s coming for all of us, and we’re almost out of time.”

My heart aches. Whatever is coming for Blood Pack, our plan is just to… to let it destroy everyone? Our neighbors? Our friends? The people who are family almost as much as we are?

“What if–?” My mind is scrambling for a solution to a problem I still don’t entirely understand.

“There’s no time! Go get your sister downstairs. I’ll get your brother.” And now, she isn’t sad. She’s angry. Authoritative.

What? Wait. “Where’s Simon?” My question comes out breathless, almost like I’ve been running.

“His girlfriend’s.”

Of course. Okay, death is coming for us. The clock is ticking, but now my mind is working. There has to be a better way. “You won’t make it to him in time. Let me go. I’ll send Isabella to the End and get Simon, and you go warn the watch tower.”

“Asha…”

“It’ll be faster. You know it will be.”

We stare at each other. I know what she’s thinking. She’s sending me into danger. Back into town. Away from the End. But also, that I am faster. And that if she doesn’t let me go, chances are that she and Simon will die. She’s never before let me take a punch for her, but I’m not a child any more. She has to know this is the right choice and that we’re just wasting time even talking about it right now.

Closing the distance between us, she yanks me into a tight hug. “Alright,” she whispers into my ear. “But you’re going to live. You’re going to be okay. Promise me.”

“I promise I’ll get us all out of here alive,” I tell her, and I mean it.

She turns and limps out the door as quickly as she can, and I ignore the fact that I’m only wearing a tank top and shorts, shove my feet into my boots, and run for my sister, my heartbeat filling my ears.

Speeding past my sister’s room, I find it empty, but I didn’t really think she was there to begin with. Rushing down to the basement, I can already hear her kicking the punching bag like it’s the face of the last boy who broke her heart.

Which is probably exactly what she’s imagining.

I find my sister in a yoga pose beside the punching bag, stretching her muscles the way I taught her to, and I don’t hesitate. Somehow, I feel like I’ve already wasted too much time. "We need to get out of here! Now!"

She straightens to her normal height with a frown, combing her white-blonde hair back from her face as she does so. "Get out of here? To where? What the hell are you talking about?"

"To the End," I say simply, not offering any more information. Not that she should need it.

My sister's eyes widen with fear. She and every other shifter understands what going to the End means. "What's going on, Asha?"

Her voice trembles as she asks the question and I itch to run my hand through her long blonde hair, which is identical to mine and our mother’s, while I assure her that everything will be fine. But I know I can’t, not right now. Yet, if we hurry, there'll be plenty of time for that when we're all safe and out of danger.

"I’m getting Simon. Mom’s telling the lookouts. You need to run to the End. We’ll all meet you there.”

“Okay,” she whispers, and those big eyes of hers are filled with trust.

Trust I hope I deserve.

Her hand slips into mine, and her scent comes over me. It’s like the beach: the salty water, the sand, and even, almost, sunscreen. It’s comforting, a scent that always makes me smile. For half a second, it overwhelms me before I remember what I’m doing. Quickly, I give her hand a squeeze before dropping it, and then we’re both running. The stairs fly by. The rooms of the only house I’ve ever known flash by. It’s all a blur, suddenly a nightmare where once there was only sunshine and laughter.

I pause outside of my brother’s room for half a second, just in case mom was wrong, but, of course, he’s not there. He’s rarely here at night, not when there’s more freedom to be found out in the town.

So, I keep going, throwing open the door of our house, then pausing. Nervously, I look around half expecting to see monsters in every shadow, but I see nothing worrisome. It’s all… quiet. And yet, I would never doubt my mom’s visions. They’ve saved countless lives, and I hope tonight they’ll save ours.

“Are you sure?” my sister whispers at my side.

Nodding, I shove her toward the woods. “Just go.”

I don't wait for a reply. I’m already going the other way, heading to find my brother, only glancing back once to make sure my sister listened. And, seeing her gone, I speed up. I force my mom and sister's scents out of my head and out of my nose, because their scents are distracting, and I don’t have time to be distracted.

Running faster than I ever have in my life, I make it across our small town and to my brother’s girlfriend’s house, then head around to the back. My brother is asleep when I sneak into the room through the open window, his girlfriend curled up in his arms. I walk to his side and gently shake him awake, taking care not to wake her. He jerks up when he sees me and the movement rouses her.

"Simon, we have to go. We’re meeting Mom and Isabella at the End. Let's go."

He rubs his face. “What?”

I punch him in the shoulder. “The End. Now. Mom’s had a vision.”

His hand drops and his blue eyes widen, instantly alert. “A vision? We’re in trouble?”

“Yes.” I throw off the covers, glad to find them both clothed, and shove his legs so that his feet are hanging off the bed. “Faster. Let’s go. We’re almost out of time.”

He looks at Cassandra, who is now wide awake too. “My mom’s had a vision. We have to go to the End.”

“But my stuff. My parents,” she says groggily. I notice that her dark hair is almost as messy as my brother's short red hair.

“We leave now, or we die,” I tell them firmly. I see it in their faces—my warnings have finally clicked.

They both shove their feet into their shoes, and I move to the window, waiting until they come toward me. Then, I scramble out the window and start to run. They follow, his hand around his girlfriend’s. He's calmer than Isabella had been, but that’s one trait that characterizes Simon. His calmness. I've almost never seen him panic, no matter the situation. He is in all ways the thinker of our family, the patient one, and not at all a person of action.

Which is why I need to keep him focused now. He could analyze this thing until we’re all dead, if I let him.

I briefly consider going through the woods, the long way around, to reach the End, but then just decide the hell with it, since time matters right now, and cut straight through town. We're nearly to the center when I hear someone scream, a terrible screaming that makes the hairs on my arms stand on end, before the scream is abruptly cut off. An alarm begins to ring, which at least means that my mom got to the lookout tower in time, and then I hear a strange sound. Hesitating for only the briefest moment, I look to see the Smith's house on fire.

And… it's surreal. Just a random house crackling with flames as the town sleeps. Yet, I know it isn't random. People begin to come out of the other houses, looking confused, and I shout, “Go to the End! Hurry!” Some people respond, hurrying one way or another toward the forest, but others run toward the burning home instead.

Damn it.

“Should we help?” Simon asks hesitantly behind me.

“Not if we want to live,” I say, moving slowly forward.

“But, the Dursey’s…”

Simon sounds upset. I am too, but I made mom a promise, and I need to follow through with it. I need to trust her enough to believe that if we don’t do this, it’ll cost us our lives.

"Faster," I simply mouth to my brother and his girlfriend, and they obey, looking grim.

We're going as fast as we can, but not like we're racing. More like we're prey running from a ruthless predator, moving with stealth and care. Which I know is strange for all of us because wolves aren't accustomed to being prey.

But I sense we are now.

My heart's racing and sweat's rolling down my back. Somewhere in the distance I hear an unidentifiable roar that shakes the ground. I jump a little as birds take flight in every direction around us, exploding out of the trees. They caw as they do so, as if they’re messengers of death. Of our deaths.

Whatever my mom had seen coming for us, it's here.

We make it to a tiny alley between two houses and hesitate, all of us exchanging fearful looks, then we step out onto a street lined by houses and shops. It’s not a big road, but it is big for our town. It’s a street that will leave us out in the open.

Except, it's already in chaos.

My heart freezes as I take in the nightmare in front of me. More houses are on fire. More screams rise into the air, and people are running in all directions, panicking rather than thinking. I want to rally them all, get them to calm down, and get them out of here. But that will take too long.

Besides, the whole thing is damn strange. I don't see any enemies yet. There’s not any reason for the chaos other than the burning houses, and few people seem to be trying to put out the flames. So, what are they running from?

And then, I see... a wolf, an unfamiliar wolf with dark fur and white patches. He stalks out from an alley, then leaps through the window of the Kallen home, shattering the glass. Someone shouts inside, and I see the family run out into the street. Racing as if their lives depend on it.

But the wife, Emilia, barely makes it two steps before a bear leaps onto her from that same alley and tears her throat out. Inside, the children and husband are screaming, then… not.

I'm going to vomit.

Later, not now. But it doesn't change the fact that I can picture exactly what happened in that house.

I take several deep breaths, then motion for my brother and his girlfriend to follow me down another alley, away from the Kallen house, knowing we can't help. Knowing my priority needs to be getting us to safety, no matter how much the sob building in my throat hurts my heart. Scents explode all around me as I escape into the darkness. Wolves. Bears. Mountain lions. Panthers. And other creatures. Ones I don't recognize.

And magic. Dark magic.

The scents tangle together as I run, all cloaked by the more powerful scent of the smoke that fills the air. I'm no longer worried about getting to the End as fast as possible. Things have changed. Our enemies are upon us. Now, I need to get my brother to the woods, and we need to get as far from here as possible before circling around to the End.

We just have to survive. Surviving is all that matters.

But when we have to cross the next road, pure panic fills me, and I hesitate in the shadows of the alley as everything seems to hit me at once. There are so many scents. It's overwhelming as I instinctually pick them out, separating them, identifying them. Blood hangs heavily on the air along with the scents of unknown people, more strangers than I ever imagined.

So many enemies.

I draw in a ragged breath. This isn't just an attack... this is war. Our own kind, shifter and supernatural, has declared war on us and we hadn't even seen it coming. Not by anything except a vision.

"Asha?" my brother whispers at my side, those pale eyes of his filled with worry.

I jerk back to reality, then look at him with a nod to show I'm okay. Simon doesn't do well when people start to freak out, so I can't. Not now.

Not until we're safe.

“It’s okay,” he tells me and then surprises me by pulling me into a hug. “We’re going to be okay.” He squeezes me so tightly that I feel a sense of calmness and safety awaken inside of me, like my brother is anchoring me back to this world, where I desperately need to be. Then, he releases me, and I take a calming breath. Simon isn’t the hugging type, but he must have realized I really needed it.

Now to get us out of here.

Inching forward, I continue through the alley until I reach the next open road. Then, I peek out at the street, not knowing what to expect, and feel the color drain from my face. I see a young girl of about five, slaughtered on the road, while a wolf feeds on her father's stomach beside her.

Damn it. Angelica and Seth.

Both are dead. Both. Dead . And now I desperately want to freak out, but I can't . If I do, we'll die too. So, I curl my hands into fists and tell myself to stay focused. There's nothing I can do to save them, so I just turn away and take a deep breath, knowing I have to get my brother to safety.

I take a step forward and someone yanks me back. Turning around, I see my brother shaking his head. He points to go back the way we came.

I shake my head in response. We can't be trapped in the middle of town. We'll die. We're so close to the woods that it's better to press on here than to go back. I know that. Simon doesn't look happy, but he grabs his girlfriend's hand, and his expression grows determined.

Taking a deep breath, I turn back around and watch as the wolf rushes off to the next street. The road is empty, except for the dancing shadows from the burning houses and the dead bodies. So, I gesture for them to follow me, then start running, trying to reach the next alley as fast as I can.

To run away from the danger behind us, but also the realization that a lot of the people I care about will die today. Have died today.

It's a tragedy that would normally send me collapsing to my knees, but some terrible part of me knows that this is just the beginning. My mom has told me a lot of stories. Terrible stories about war and the way our people were treated in the real world. And from what I've learned, I know that the loss from today will haunt me for the rest of my life. Because, unfortunately, I know every pack member's name. And none of their deaths will be forgotten.

Lost but never forgotten. I touch my face as I run, finding my cheeks wet with tears. Something inside of me is breaking, but my body is still moving. Moving fast even though I'm shaking. Or maybe I'm in shock. I don't know. I don't know anything except that I've never been this scared in my life.

Our people can fight back. They will fight back. But if mom has already seen our destruction, I don't know if it'll matter. Maybe the warning bell sounding is enough to change the tide, but I can't bet on that. All I can do is get my brother to safety.

Ahead of me, I see the edge of the woods and feel a wave of relief. I turn back to my brother to make sure he's seen it too, and the relief I felt a moment before dashes away.

He's gone.

I'm running to safety alone. But, no, he was there, behind me, just a minute ago. I'd seen him. Known he was there. And what the hell reason could he possibly have for splitting off? Simon is smart, smarter than me. He knows better.

I retrace my steps, searching frantically for Simon... and then I see him. He's holding a heart in his hands; blood runs down his hand and arm. His eyes are wide with shock, but his chest is rising and falling as if he was running. At his feet is the body of one of the attackers, a dead wolf. I want to scream at him to ignore the chaos and come with me when I see the reason he's stopped to fight.

His girlfriend is lying on the ground, her throat split open. Blood coats her, and her eyes seem to stare at the sky, but really, she's staring at nothing at all.

"Simon!" I shout, my voice shaking.

He looks up slowly, like he doesn't remember who I am or where he is.

I open my mouth to tell him we have to go. That he's in shock. But that if we stay, we’ll die.

Before I can, the building beside me explodes, throwing me to the ground and blurring my vision. Fear rips through me but I pull myself up, blind and terrified, feeling the heat from flames somewhere in front of me, still desperate to reach my brother. To keep him safe. Simon has never been a fighter. He's never done well in bad situations.

He needs me.

My vision slowly returns, and I stumble back as I realize that the house between us has collapsed into the street, covered in fire, a smoking pile of burning rubble. I try to inch around it to get to my brother, but I can't.

Looking over the flames, I see his pale blue eyes staring back at me. The heart is still in his hand, but now his arm hangs at his side. And I hate the lost look in his eyes. Then, I recognize a change in his scent. It reeks of pain. Raw, angry pain. The kind of pain that could blind anyone to the dangerous situation we're currently in. "Go to the End! I'll meet you there!"

He shakes his head.

"Simon!" I'm begging, my voice cracking. "Simon, run!"

Images flash through my mind. More dead bodies. More blood. My mom, my sister, and Simon bleeding and dead, their gazes staring at nothing. Their bodies empty shells. And I don't know if it's happening, or if I'm only imagining it.

But I start screaming. And screaming.

Everything around me is on fire. Red eyes appear in every shadow and growls rise up like a roaring sound that wants to consume me. In every direction, death waits. In every direction, the life I knew is over. Everyone and everything I've ever loved will fade away, leaving nothing but blood and ash in its place.

I realize I'm still screaming. I try to stop. I feel tears flowing down my face, but terrifying images just keep flashing in my mind until I'm on my knees, my own screams ringing through my ears.

Suddenly, I'm in a different place, looking at a different person. There's no fire. No blood. No death. Just a room with light washing over it, from somewhere. I don’t know where.

I'm confused, looking around in a panic. My throat feels parched, achy, and someone is holding me. In a strange room. In a strange place.

Only, as the old memories fade away, as the effect of my nightmare fades, I remember coming to this room. I remember where my duffel bag sits, where I took my shower, and who I'm with. My body's still shaking, and my throat's still sore, but reality is starting to wash away the terror of my nightmare.

Of the night I lost everything.

I shift a little and look up into the face of the person holding me. It's Max Blackwell, and he's rocking me from side to side, trying to calm me like I'm a child. My eyes meet his, and for a second, I feel different. I just stare into those pale brown eyes of his, which seem intelligent and kind all at once. I want to touch him, to see if this man and this moment is really real, because it doesn't feel like it.

His brown hair is messy, and it's never messy. The dark locks falling over his forehead soften the badass, uptight look that he usually wears like a cloak. My hands itch to reach up and touch his hair, to push it back from his forehead the way he likes to keep it styled, but I curl my hands into fists to stop myself. Instead, my gaze runs over the hard lines of his face, the dark arches of his eyebrows, his strong jaw, then down his body.

He's shirtless, and my breath catches. For a man who wears so many dark suits, he looks incredible out of them. His shoulders are broader than I ever thought possible, and the muscles that tighten his arms, chest, and stomach make me wonder how the hell he hid them so well. And why any man with a body like his would keep it concealed in dark suits.

It’s not attraction I feel toward him. Not exactly. It’s… something else. Maybe something to hold onto when I desperately need grounding. Something to make me feel safe. And this man feels like a safe harbor in an unexpected way that’s almost frightening. Because this isn’t a dream. What I do here matters. And if I make the wrong move here, I’ll pay for it.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his face soft with concern. His voice is husky, almost sleepy.

Yet no matter how softly he spoke, his words shake me from my stupor, and I feel walls around my heart and mind rising so fast that it's almost painful. "Yes." The word comes out a rasp.

"You were screaming," he tells me gently, his expression bouncing between one of disbelief and one of worry, maybe both.

"I'm okay. Just a nightmare." I try to sound confident, but the words come out shaky.

He hesitates, then pushes on. "You have a lot of nightmares. Are you sure this isn't something else?"

What, like I'm reliving one of the worst nights of my life? I almost laugh at the thought because it’s not even true. That wasn't the worst night of my life. It was the start of every night of my life being awful. It was the end of my innocence. The end of my family. The end of my life as I knew it.

Now, all that's left behind is a woman with a mission. A heartless, piece-of-shit woman with a mission.

I push away from him. "I'm fine, Dr. Phil."

His body stiffens, and he drops his hands, letting me climb off the bed and out of his lap. I look around the motel room, from my bed to his empty one. I've had nightmares with him before, and he'd always tried to help me, but this was the first time he'd touched me. I don't know how I feel about that.

"I'm going to take a shower," I say.

"Good." All softness is gone from his voice. "Because we have work to do."

" Surprise, surprise ," I tell him dryly, gathering up my stuff for the shower, and trying not to notice how hoarse my voice still is from all my screaming.

"Just make it quick," he says, and it's the closest to snapping at me he's gotten.

I pause in the doorway to the bathroom and look back, letting my gaze roam over him. He’s wearing long grey pajama pants and no shirt. He’s running his fingers angrily through his hair and staring down at his bed. It’s the most… human-like I’ve seen him since we started “working” together. Like underneath his suits, he’s actually a man.

And seeing him as a man bothers me for reasons I don’t understand. Any time, even for a moment, that I feel a personal connection with him, I do something stupid. Normally, this is where I'd say something obnoxious to piss my captor off, but instead, I slip into the bathroom, not yet ready for a fight. Verbal or otherwise.

Locking the door, I turn on the shower to warm it up and strip down, shivering as the cold air hits me. Or maybe I’m still shivering from the nightmare. Or Max touching me. I’m not sure which, but my body feels like it’s overloading. Like I need to shift into my wolf form and go racing through the woods until I can’t remember what it means to be human any longer.

Not that I can do that. Not until I’ve righted my wrongs.

A soft whisper makes me jerk. But I know that voice. I know what it wants. And even when I see dark, wispy shapes out of the corner of my eye, I ignore them. I ignore it all because it can only bring me trouble.

Stepping into the shower, I turn it to scalding hot, then stiffen when it hits me. But hot water is exactly what I need right now; the pain helps to wash the memories away… and the knowledge of what I still have to do.

The terrible things I have to do.

I'm trembling, more from anger than fear now, but I don't want to stop being angry. The anger helps me. Keeps me going. And right now, the most important thing is that I keep going.

I sold my soul for a reason—to save my pack, or what's left of it—and I need the anger to remind me that I'm still a long way from doing that. Most of my pack died that night. The rest wished they had. Now, either I find them and try to save their tortured souls, or the others find them before I do and kill them.

That night might have been the start of my journey into hell, but it's far from over. And if Max or the others get in my way, I don't care how handsome they are, I'll drag them into hell right alongside me.