*Ella*“GO!” I scream to Cassian, who looks absolutely enraged as warriors begin funneling toward us and Ravenna’s severed head falls from her shoulders and hits the ground. Granger bursts into action, shoving his sword into Amanda’s hands before he shifts. I hold my position on the stairs and raise my hands. “GRANGER! GET AMANDA OUT OF HERE, NOW!” What happens next is a blur. I can barely see through the sea of royal warriors and their wolves of mist and shadow. It’s a bloodbath, but Granger is leading the charge while Amanda swings his heavy sword in a circle and cuts down several advancing wolves. Petra’s eyes are on me and narrowed into murderous slits. She raises her hands, her mouth opening in a brutal sneer. Her teeth sharpen like daggers, and the air fills with a screech that sets my heart rate spiking. If I use my powers now, I could kill Granger and Amanda by accident. They’re in the way. Behind me, I can hear Cassian trying to slice his way up the stairs, which is so f

*Ella*At first I think I’m standing in front of Ryatt in a cold, stone-lined bedroom with nothing but a small bed and dresser to furnish the space. But, it’s not Ryatt. Glacier blue eyes look past me as the man turns around, his face drawn and brow pinched in an expression I know belongs to one man, and one man alone. But Commander Westfall is so much younger. He can’t be much older than Ryatt in this–this vision. This dream. Westfall stalks forward, brushing past me. I turn, following his movements. “This is madness,” Westfall says to the beautiful young woman sitting on the edge of the bed with a child sleeping in her lap. She combs her bruised and swollen fingers through the boy’s thick, dark curls, his own face peppered with fresh bruises. “You’re leaving, tonight!”“You know I can’t.” Silver manacles on each wrist gleam in the light of the several candles, the skin beneath them scarred from years of burns from the silver. “You know he’d find me in a second, Adrien. I cannot le

*Isla*Earlier I’ve never felt this kind of excitement before. It’s strange, really, looking back on everything I went through to get to the point I’m at now, packing the tiniest pieces of clothing in my suitcase in anticipation of meeting my grandsons. My fingers slip over a light blue onesie embroidered with little teddy bears, and I smile, the corners of my eyes crinkling. Maddox is somewhere behind me packing his own suitcase but for an entirely different reason. I turn to look over my shoulder at him as he pulls a suit from the closet and examines it. “It’s going to be rather hot for a suit, don’t you think?”“Antony says it’s a black tie event. The Alphas along Maatua’s archipelago and the smaller territories in KiloKilo will be attending. I’m supposed to look the part, whatever the hell Antony meant by that.”I smile to myself as Maddox lays the suit over our bed and walks toward our dresser, tossing a few pairs of socks into the open suitcase at his feet. I go back to packi

*Isla*It’s a beautiful, clear night. Waves brush against the rocky shore of the private island in the Teal Isles, a small group of islands roughly forty miles south of Maatua. The moon is full and bright, casting a long silver beam across the practically still ocean. On a night like this, Maddox and I normally would have shifted and gone for a nice long run through the tropical forest surrounding Maatua. But now I’m standing by a window in a snug, wood paneled bedroom in the massive vacation home of the Alpha and Luna of Maatua wondering how we got to this point. I turn my head to look at the bed in the center of the room where Ryatt is lying on his side, his eyes pinched shut as he sleeps. He died at least twice today, three times if we count the moment his heart stopped during the surgery to mend and close a dozen stab wounds to his chest and abdomen. My tears were the only thing keeping him alive, even when his body repeatedly tried to give up. He’s stable now, at least. His

EllaRyatt is out of bed in an instant, his face dancing with shadows cast by the early morning daylight creeping through the airy curtains. He grabs me by the ankle and drags me toward him across the bed as Isaac stalks into the room. Ryatt looks murderous. His eyes are bright, clear, and lucid as he narrows them on my brother while I swing my legs off the bed and stand at his side. He stretches his arm across me, trying to push me behind him. I feel a flicker of something deep in my heart. It’s fleeting, but Ryatt’s desperation to keep me safe from this threat–my brother and his temper–awakens a single speck of the bond that was stolen from us. “Stop,” I whisper. “Ryatt, stop!”“Get out,” Ryatt sneers as Isaac comes to a stop in the center of the room. Through the doorway, I see several figures lingering in the shadows. Warriors, from what I can smell. “What are you doing in here with him?” Isaac snarls, his eyes locking on mine. “Do not speak to her.” Ryatts voice is sharpened