He threw the blanket over me and twisted Emme around to face him. He chuckled when he caught the humiliation scorching her freckled face and set her carefully on the ground.

Most women would’ve liked sliding down Bren’s muscular and naked body, but most women weren’t as timid as my youngest sister. “I’ll heal you n-now, Celia,” she stammered.

“Thank you,” I said. My vision was starting to dim and I was close to passing out. So much for claiming I could still fight.

Emme touched my face and surrounded me with her pale yellow healing light. Aric tightened his hold when a groan escaped my lips. He whispered soft wolfish sounds in my ear, trying to distract me from the sting spreading deep into my bones. When Emme finished, my fresh wounds would completely heal. Until then, my body was furious at the speed at which it was forced to mend and punished me with painful spasms.

I didn’t remember losing consciousness, but when I lifted my heavy lids, we were back on the beach and with those I most loved.

Bren circled the dead horses. The poor animals lay on their backs with their legs stuck up in the air like poles. He shook his head. “Damn, Aric. You’re going to have to pay for those.”

Aric ignored him. “Anyone hurt?”

Although everyone denied it, an innocent bystander might have objected. Eight weres I didn’t know had answered Aric’s call. By scent I could tell there were four bears, three cougars, and a werebadger. With the exception of my sisters, everyone present was naked. Blood painted their bodies and soaked the sand, and entrails dried in the sun. On a scale of nastiness, this topped close to puking digits. The humans were lucky to have this part of the world hidden from them or easily swiped from their memories with a little mojo. At that moment, I wished I could have been one of those lucky humans blind to the disturbing side of our reality.

The dead shape-shifters, in their human forms, lay about thirty feet apart on the mangled beach. Heidi grabbed the leg of one and dragged it along the sand to join the other. Aric stopped just a few feet from them. The panther had been female, the tiger male. Both had their throats torn out, but the panther also had her skull crushed. My brows drew tight. “Why is the tiger dead?”

Aric lowered me to ground. He hadn’t realized I was awake until then. But he did know what I meant. To kill a shifter, you have to either mutilate the heart or brain. Aric hadn’t done either to the tiger that attacked us. “I don’t know,” he said, rubbing his sternum. “For now, I only care that Tura’s dead.”

“Tura?” I asked.

Aric growled. He continued to stare at the shifter as if expecting him to attack. “He’s one of the oldest shape-shifters we’re aware of and among the deadliest.”

Yet Aric had taken Tura out in order to defend me. I tried not to shudder. Just like that, I could have lost him.

Aric sensed my fear and leaned into me to whisper. “I’m safe and so are you. I will always protect you, okay?”

“Just like I’ll always protect you, too,” I told him. I meant it, and I knew he meant what he said as well, but I couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong.

Aric motioned to the panther. “Who made the kill?”

Gemini stepped forward. “I did. But it required our combined forces to bring her down.” He had his arm around my sister Taran, although his show of affection seemed forced.

Just a few weeks back, Taran would have been smiling up at her mate, bragging about what a badass wolf he was. But Taran was no longer the same. None of us were.

Anara was a trusted Pack Elder who allowed his hatred toward me to spiral out of control. This monster literally tore my and Aric’s baby from my womb. Ugly scars lined my lower belly, a reminder that our baby was gone, and that we would never be able to conceive another. And while Anara’s actions left me devastated and almost killed me, I hadn’t suffered alone.

Anara had chewed Taran’s arm off from the elbow down and devoured both of Shayna’s. Shayna’s werewolf essence regenerated her spirit and arms completely. Taran hadn’t fared as well. In an effort to help, the Pack Omega had attempted to use Taran’s mate bond with Gemini to regrow Taran’s arm. No one could have predicted how freakishly Taran’s magic would clash with the Pack’s, but it had, and it changed Taran in a way that broke my heart.

Stark white skin covered Taran’s new appendage and sickly blue veins ran down its length. While technically a healthy and functioning arm, it stood out like a clump of snow against a golden beach. For someone who appeared seemingly perfect—flawless olive skin, killer curves, and bold blue eyes—Taran didn’t feel beautiful anymore. She wore elbow-length gloves to conceal her new limb and had lost much of the persona that made her the family hellcat.

And now she was also losing control over her power.

Taran tucked her arm beneath her maiden blouse and placed her “normal” arm over it. In attempting to use her fire, she must have burned off her gloves. Gemini noticed, but instead of comforting her, his stance stiffened further.

Shayna glanced their way before walking to my side and clasping her hand on my shoulder. “You okay, dude?” she asked me.

I nodded and adjusted the quilt around me, my spine straightening as two runners sprinted past us. “Don’t worry, Ceel,” Bren said. “The broom humpers have it covered.”

The scent of witch magic filled my nose, but it was faint, overpowered by Tahoe’s. Taran shrugged Gem’s arm off and stepped forward. “I tried to give us some camouflage, but I couldn’t manage more than a few puffs of mist.” She tucked her new arm deeper beneath her shirt. “Nothing seems to be working, even this close to the lake’s magic.”

“Don’t worry,” I told her. “We’re going to figure this out.”

Her tightening jaw informed me she didn’t believe me. I hoped to prove her wrong, but now wasn’t the time.

Aric furrowed his brows in Gemini’s direction. “This isn’t Genevieve’s coven.” He took a whiff of the air, a smile spreading across his face as his gaze traveled to the elevated walkway above us.

A band of witches in their sixties straddled racing bikes and waved his way. Each wore a helmet, T-shirt, and black spandex pants with “Bitches on Bikes” airbrushed across her butt. A woman with fair skin and a gleaming smile left the group, trailed by another woman who reached into her fanny pack and removed a container of salt. Together, they carefully walked down the stone steps and onto the beach while those who remained on the walkway gave the camouflaging spell an added boost of energy.