Miles outside of headquarters, Nika ripped through the woods, trying to ignore the alarms that signaled an attack. All that drove the blaring sounds from her attention was the voice inside her mind: Wolves coming from the northwest. Veer east and stay quiet.
Nika obeyed, a puppet on strings. Thorny branches slapped her arms as she ran, and dread crept up her spine, telling her what she already knew.
This is stupid. You should turn around.
One thing pushed her onward—the bare and rare possibility that this wasn't a trap. If there was any chance of saving Lu tonight, then she wouldn't hesitate to seize it. She wouldn't even make a plan.
Nika laughed at herself. Impulsive, Ren had called her. She hoped he would forgive her for breaking that promise, hoped she would survive the night to see his angry scowl.
One foot in front of the other, she pushed on. So fast and fervently that she couldn't slow down after breaking through the trees, and nearly hurled off the edge of a rugged drop.
The ravine.
As her toes dangled in the air, Nika peered down. Vicious terrain greeted her. It was all dagger-like rocks, snarling vines and weeds, and a river that forked like a serpent's tongue far below. The mouth of a great beast.
She backed up, heart pounding so hard that she didn't hear the footsteps crunching toward her, didn't sense the danger until he spoke:
"I was worried you wouldn't survive those injuries. You must have had quite the feast, to flush out all that belabane."
Nika whirled on Dante. He leaned against a nearby tree, casual as ever.
"Where is she?" The words were a breathless croak.
"Lu? Oh, she couldn't come with us, unfortunately. But I assure you, she is safe. Comfortable, even."
Nika shook her head. "But . . . "
Her instincts had been correct. A trap. Lu wasn't coming, and she never had been. The voice, whatever it was, had lied.
Before Dante had a chance to move or speak again, Nika bolted. She barely reentered the thick woods when another wolfblood leapt into her path. She turned around, but Dante now stood on the sandy overhang.
Definitely a trap.
Nika raised the handgun she'd taken from Sokol, pointing it at Dante. Sensing the young man at her back pressing closer, she swiveled. Dante's feet crunched in the opposite direction.
Shit, Nika thought. Her aim was terrible to begin with, and now she faced two moving targets on either side.
She was doomed.
Dante lifted his palms in the air. "You'll be free to leave when we're done talking. Try to escape, and Sam will use force to stop you. Try to attack, and it will lead to the same result. Understand?"
"You tricked me," Nika growled.
Dante shrugged. "Trick is such a negative word. It was more like persuasion."
"You made me think it was Lu's voice. You lied."
"Yes, I stretched the truth to get you here. But not about the lack of time."
Nika pulled the trigger, but the bullet whizzed past Dante's head and over the canyon. Before she knew what was happening, his companion—Sam—tackled her to the ground.
Nika smacked the earth, a sharp spasm running through her arm. The weapon landed in the dirt several feet away, and every training lesson she'd ever had poured into her heart.
When Sam grabbed her shoulder, Nika rolled out from under him and swung a fist. He lunged back with a centimeter to spare, allowing a moment for her to get on her knees. His golden eyes were drenched in violence when he stepped forward, raising a set of menacing claws.
By the time he swiped, Nika was already ducking, already spinning, already flinging her leg out. Sam face-planted, then lifted himself on elbows and shook his head. While he was busy recovering, Nika scrambled for the gun. Her fingers brushed the handle, adrenaline rushed through her body.
But an iron grip caught her ankle and dragged her across the ground. She hissed a curse, flipping onto her back and thrashing her legs. A guttural, angry bark spewed out of Sam as he blocked her swinging limbs. In a blink, he was sitting on top of her, and Nika threw her arms up as his claws rushed toward her face.
"Stop!" Dante shouted before the strike landed.
The wolfblood growled but obeyed, then hauled Nika onto her feet. She struggled as he pulled her against him and ripped her arms back. But his fangs snapped out and scraped the exposed skin on her shoulder, and Nika went deathly still.
All she could do was watch as Dante approached them. Watch and spit at his worn hiking boots.
A muscle in his jaw flickered. "You don't believe you can trust me."
Her chest heaved up and down, and heat poured into her face, but she wouldn't satisfy him with a response.
Dante's eyes turned flaming yellow, and in a flash, they were back to brown. Nika braced herself to be beaten, or interrogated, or maybe even killed. But then he turned around and took off his shirt.
After recovering from her shock, Nika studied him. Amid a slate of smooth, tan skin and shifting muscles was a smattering of pinkish scars. Fresh scars, by the looks of it. A breath caught in her throat when she realized they were from a specific type of injury—lashes.
"This was my punishment for saving you," Dante explained. "The price for my rebellion against Alpha Capello."
She swallowed. "I don't believe you."
"Ask Lu the next time you see her. She's the one who healed them."
He put the shirt on and faced her. Nika scanned his handsome features, but they revealed nothing. "Why are you doing this?" she said. "Why did you make me come here?"
"I just want to talk."
"Save your excuses for someone else."
"No. This time, it's a mission statement."
He stepped closer, and when she tried to move away, Sam shoved her forward. Dante reached out and brushed away a piece of hair that had blown across her face.
"How is it so difficult for you to understand when we want the same things? To be treated as equals, to no longer be marked as tainted."
A tsunami of hatred and anger surged within her. "We do not want the same things. I want to live in a fair world where no one calls me a halfblood like it's some disease. I want a home. You just want revenge."
Dante ripped his eyes away from her, clenching his teeth. "The Ministry cursed my pack because they feared our ability to shapeshift. Because Serafi think they're superior to all of us. And that's why we're rebelling. Once we take out Serafi and their oppressive governments, we can have peace."
"Are you listening to yourself? Genocide would only make you the very monsters you're trying to get rid of! No, it would make you worse."
"They've given us no other choice."
"If you really think that's the solution, then maybe you are animals."
His nostrils flared, and a tremor swept through his body as though he might transform into a wolf right in front of her. She thanked the Oldbloods for the moon curse, or else it might have been possible.
"We're not going to kill them off all at once. Just the Ministers and purists. Just enough to scare the rest of them."
"My father is a Minister!"
"Your father is a liar!"
"At least he doesn't take pleasure in it like you do."
When he lunged, Sam nearly stumbled. The mishap didn't seem to faze Dante, however, who leaned close enough that his breath steamed in her face. Nika didn't balk from the anger roiling within him, for there was something twice as volcanic gathering within herself.
"Don't you want to know what he's lying about?" Dante said, his voice smooth as honey.
Don't you want to know the taste of the forbidden fruit? said the serpent to the woman. Only this time, instead of a snake, the tempter was a wolf.
"I already know that Markos lied about your curse."
"Not about the curse, or the existence of Volkari and magic." A smile sliced through Dante's face, as beautiful as it was cruel. "No. The greatest lie he ever told is all about you."
Nika could only stare. Stare and wonder. She had no idea what Dante was talking about. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that Markos had kept more secrets from her, but she hadn't imagined that they would be about her specifically.
"Isn't it odd that he refuses to reveal your mother's identity? She's a Nefili, he says. Are we just supposed to believe that?"
Nika lurched forward. "She has to be one." Sam ripped her back just as her fangs unhinged.
Dante seemed thoroughly pleased with the reaction as he said, "Why?"
"Because I'm a Nefili! That's the way it works."
A knowing smile. "Do you know what a dormant wolf is?"
She snarled and snapped her jaws. All it would take was one deep, brutal bite into the neck artery. Then he'd bleed out in minutes. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't reach.
"Answer the question."
Nika slammed backward into Sam, earning a pained grunt. "No!"
The wolfblood tightened his grasp, and her shoulders screamed in pain.
"Dormant Volkari can't shift into an animal form," Dante said. "They are very rare, but not impossible. And despite the deficiency, they might still possess other traits. Glowing eyes, claws . . . telepathy."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"The voice that lured you here—what did you think it was? Magic?"
Dread sank like an anchor in Nika's stomach. Dante stared her down.
It wasn't magic, Nika.
His voice rang like a bell inside her mind. Unmistakable now, but if she'd stretched it out across a great distance, it would have sounded exactly the same as the one that had called her earlier.
"No."
When we took Lu, you heard me speaking to my uncle as a wolf. I tested it again when I saved you from the cave. And once more. Tonight. Right now . . .
Nika screamed and writhed and thrashed. "No no no no no! It's not possible! I'm a Nefili!"
She finally broke free from Sam's grip and attacked Dante. He easily evaded, then slammed her belly-down onto the dirt. As she heaved and coughed, trying to rediscover air, he pinned her in place.
"Or maybe the curse is preventing it from manifesting. I don't know. But we'll find out soon enough." He released her just enough so she could move onto her side. "Don't try to fight me, Nika. You'll lose."
Despite the pain in her chest, she threw a fist at his jaw. Her knuckles would surely regret it later, but the satisfaction of seeing blood color the cracks between his teeth—oh, it was worth it.
Dante growled, and when he pounced, she twisted. It was a blind instinct to gain a better position, to escape whatever attack he had planned. So she rolled.
And rolled. And rolled.
"Nika, no!"
One moment, the ground was beneath her, and the next—
A throaty cry escaped her as she swung over the edge of the bluff. She squeezed her eyes shut, preparing to collide with the rocks and trees below. But she just . . . dangled.
Looking up, she found Dante on his stomach, their forearms clasped. Sam was behind him, straining to keep Dante from plummeting with her.
"I could let you go," Dante said through gritted teeth. "But I won't. Do you know why?"
Nika was too busy gaping at the harrowing drop, the beast's mouth that seemed to open wider and meaner for her.
"Because you're one of us, and I'd never kill a fellow wolf."
She gazed up, baring her fangs. "It's not true!" She added in a whisper, "It can't be true."
But Dante wouldn't give up. "When you met me, another of your kind, the wolf came out. You know it, deep down. Don't you?"
Her fingers slipped against his too-smooth skin. She shrieked. "Please!"
"Admit it!"
"Stop! Pull me up!"
"Just say it. You're a wolf."
"I'm a wolf! Now, pull me up!"
As he and Sam heaved her back onto the cliff top, Dante smiled like he'd won the lottery. It didn't matter. He hadn't won anything. She knew it wasn't true. She'd never displayed any signs of being a Volkari, and there had to be another explanation for the telepathy.
Dante grabbed her by the shoulders, his eyes ablaze with excitement. "Join us, Nika. We'll give you freedom. We'll show you what you can be. And you'll never have to be ridiculed or cast aside again."
"Dante," Sam warned. "We need to go."
Nika was dizzy and breathless. She clung to Dante as her pulse steadied and her mind digested everything he said.
"Think about it. I'll come back soon to learn your answer." He traced her mouth with his thumb. "For what it's worth, I hope you agree."
He stepped back slowly and picked up the handgun she'd dropped. In a blur, both wolves were gone. Then Nika collapsed onto her knees, his words whirling around her brain, nausea settling in her belly.
"It's not true."
She coughed, then retched. As spasms of sickness swept through her, she continued telling herself that—it's not true, not true, not true.