Hanna clawed at the air, trying to rake her talons across Marco’s face to break his hold. But Marco was faster, his predatory instincts honed by years of bloodshed. Sensing her desperation, he clamped his jaws even tighter, burying his fangs until they scraped against her collarbone.

  "ARGH!"

  Hanna’s scream pierced the morning sky. Her strength seemed to drain out of her in a sudden, sickening rush. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed into the dirt. Seeing her wither, Marco released his bite with a savage yank. Without an ounce of mercy, he wrapped a massive hand around her throat and hoisted her up until her feet dangled uselessly in the air.

  Fueled by a simmering, ancient hatred, Marco slammed Hanna’s body into the concrete wall behind them.

  CRACK!

  He didn't stop at one. He slammed her again and again, each impact sending spiderweb cracks through the masonry until the structure finally gave way, burying part of the alley in a cloud of dust and jagged debris.

  As Hanna’s consciousness flickered, Marco lunged again. He sank his fangs back into the exact same wound on her shoulder. This time, he thrashed his head side-to-side with feral intensity, like a wolf worrying a piece of prey, intent on grinding the bone to splinters.

  "Argh! Ergh! Argh!..."

  Hanna’s roars grew faint, dissolving into heart-wrenching whimpers. Under the sheer weight of the physical trauma, her extraordinary transformation began to fail. The obsidian scales receded into her skin, and her talons retracted—her body was being forced back into its fragile human shell.

  Marco let go, his teeth stained crimson with her blood. His lupine features receded, revealing a half-human face twisted by madness.

  "Hahahaha!"

  He barked a laugh at the sight of Hanna slumped in his grip. He tightened his hold on her throat, the muscles in his forearm bulging as he prepared to snap her neck with one lethal twist.

  "Die, you traitor’s brat!" Marco hissed.

  THUD!

  A massive, blunt force collided with the back of Marco’s skull. The sound of a sickening crack echoed as something hard struck his cranium, snapping his head forward.

  Blood rushed to Marco’s face. With a muffled roar of fury, he released his death grip on Hanna. She slid to the ground, gasping and clawing for air. Marco spun around, his eyes glowing a malevolent red as he searched for the fool who dared to interfere.

  Standing behind him was Robert, clinging to the last shreds of his strength. He swayed on his feet, his knees knocking together. His face was a mask of gore, thick blood matting his hair and dripping from his chin. Yet, through the agony, Robert’s lips curled into a defiant, infuriating smirk.

  Slowly, Robert raised his right hand. With exaggerated flair, he extended his middle finger directly at Marco—a final, silent insult in the middle of the ruined alley.

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  "I should have crushed your skull when I had the chance," Marco rasped, his voice vibrating with a murderous rage.

  "Then do it, you animal," Robert countered. His voice was hoarse, but it didn't hold a single tremor of fear.

  The insult broke the last of Marco’s restraint. His jaw elongated with the sound of grinding bone as he shifted fully back into his werewolf form. He lunged at Robert with his maw gaping wide, intent on sinking his fangs into the boy's head.

  But Marco had forgotten one thing: Hanna. Even in her weakened state, she wouldn't let Robert become a sacrifice. Drawing on every last drop of energy in her nerves, she surged up from the rubble.

  As Marco lunged toward Robert, Hanna intercepted him. She buried her fangs deep into Marco’s shoulder—right into the exposed muscle of his neck.

  "GRRR!"

  Marco let out a thunderous growl. The sudden surge of pain forced him to veer off. He whipped his elbow back, catching Hanna squarely in the ribs. A sharp crack followed, forcing Hanna to release her bite as she was hurled against the fractured concrete.

  Panting heavily, Marco turned to finish her, but his legs suddenly froze. A strange, numbing vibration raced through his nervous system. The coarse fur on his arms began to shed, his elongated jaw snapped back into place, and his claws retracted. In an instant, his werewolf power vanished, leaving him in a weakened human state.

  Marco fell to his knees, clutching his bleeding shoulder. He shrieked as a searing, toxic pain radiated from the bite wound—a sensation he had never felt as a werewolf.

  "ARGH! Why... why isn't it healing? Hah... hah..."

  His breath grew shallow. His red eyes faded into human ones, now wide with terror. He looked up to see Hanna slowly rising through the settling dust.

  "What did you do to me?" he trembled.

  Hanna didn't answer. She only sneered, baring fangs that were still slick with his blood. Her golden eyes burned with a light that seemed to devour his soul. She began to limp toward him.

  Desperate, Marco tried to summon the beast again. He flexed his muscles, trying to force the change, but his body rejected it.

  "Fuck! What have you done!" Marco screamed, but his bravado was gone. He began to scramble backward on his knees, away from the approaching girl.

  "Please... don't kill me!" he begged, his voice cracking. The arrogance had been replaced by a cold, drenching sweat of pure terror. But his pleas fell on deaf ears.

  Hanna showed no mercy. She opened her mouth wide, revealing the blood-stained fangs of a predator.

  "ARGHH! NO!" Marco shrieked, but the sound was cut short as Hanna sank her teeth into his jugular.

  With a savage jerk, she lifted him off the ground before slamming him into the concrete with bone-shaking force.

  CRASH!

  Marco’s body hit the wall and slumped into the dirt. His eyes were fixed and glassy; he was dead before he even touched the asphalt. The alley fell into a heavy, oppressive silence, broken only by the sound of ragged breathing.

  "Gruhh... gruhh..."

  Hanna’s chest heaved. Her breath was short and raspy. Her legs began to shake violently, her muscles feeling like liquid as they failed to support her weight.

  Her golden eyes, now fading, drifted toward the boy lying still on the road.

  "Robb..." she whispered hoarsely. She forced her feet to move, dragging her heavy body toward him. "Robb..."

  In that moment, the last of her supernatural strength flickered out. The fine scales vanished, her fangs receded, and she slowly returned to the form of a fragile, broken human girl.

  Hanna fell to her knees beside Robert. Tears began to flow, washing through the blood on Robert’s face. Her vision blurred, the world spinning as the sounds of the city felt miles away.

  "Hanna!"

  A voice broke the silence. Zoey appeared at the mouth of the alley, sprinting toward them.

  Hanna, now completely human—and without a stitch of clothing left on her—could no longer hold onto consciousness. Her world turned to black, and her limp body collapsed across Robert’s chest.

  Zoey reached them in a heartbeat. With trembling hands, she stripped off her jacket and draped it over Hanna, shielding her.

  "Marco is dead."

  A deep, gravelly voice echoed from the shadows behind them, making Zoey’s heart stop. She whipped around toward the sound.

  Her eyes went wide. There, standing over Marco's cooling corpse, were three tall, imposing men in black jackets.

  "Marcus?" Zoey whispered, her face turning a ghostly pale.