The darkness peeled back like burnt paper.
Figures poured into the chamber—shadows with claws, glowing eyes, teeth too sharp for anything human.
Vampires.
And worse—werewolves. Snarling, shifting mid-charge, their bodies crackling with unnatural magic. Not the kind from storybooks. This was raw, unchained. Wiltz’s kind of magic.
Eve barely had time to grab her dagger.
“Okay!” she yelled. “This is definitely not how I thought today would go!”
I didn’t answer. My own dagger was already humming in my grip, magic pouring into the steel until it burned white-blue. I thrust my hand forward, blasting a vampire back into the wall, then spun, slashing at a werewolf that lunged for Eve.
Scott didn’t move.
He just stood there.
Watching.
“Scott!” I screamed, ducking under a claw. “Do something!”
But he didn’t answer.