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A scream drove me from sleep. I sat up, heart racing, and the only reason I did not think I was dreaming was because Adrian was awake too.

“Did you hear that?” I asked.

Another scream.

We shot from the bed, searching in the dark for our clothes. I had just managed to pull on my robe and get the door open when I came face-to-face with Sorin.

“The castle’s under attack,” he said. “There are vârcolaci roaming the halls.”

Vârcolaci were a type of werewolf. They were large and could rise onto their hind legs and fight using their clawed hands.

“How?”

“We do not know, but they did not come in by any usual means,” said Sorin.

Adrian drew his sword, and I turned to look at him. He was shirtless, wearing only the trousers he’d managed to find in the dark.

“Please stay,” he said, kissing my forehead. “Sorin, watch her.”

Then Adrian was gone.

I stepped into the hallway long enough to watch him, the muscles in his shoulders tense as more screams sounded throughout the castle.

I looked at Sorin. “I think I know how they got in.”

“How?”

“Ravena,” I said, unwilling to completely admit that I had summoned her, that whatever connection I had established earlier had not fully closed. “We have to go!”

I took off down the hallway for my chambers.

Sorin did not try to stop me; instead, he followed, racing beside me. When we came to my hall, I skidded to a halt, finding the door to my chambers in ruins. Part of it hung off the hinges, part of it looked as if it had flown off and hit the opposite wall, and there were splinters of wood everywhere.

“Isolde,” Sorin hissed as I crept closer.

I looked back at him and put my finger to my lips, glaring. My weapons were in the room, and I wanted them, but as I neared my door and peered through the wrecked doorframe, I saw that my room was still occupied by a vârcolac.

It must have sensed me because it turned its glowing, red eyes upon me and bellowed a scream-like roar.

I stumbled back, fumbling as I turned around.

“Run!” I yelled at Sorin as the creature exploded from my room. It used the wall as a springboard, flying through the air, landing in front of us, barring our escape.

Sorin lifted his blade.

“This would be a really great time for you to shift, Isolde,” he said, gritting his teeth.

“Maybe if I’d had a better teacher,” I returned.

The vârcolac roared again and rose on its hind legs, towering over us. He struck at Sorin, his razor-sharp claws tangling with his blade.

I raced back to my room to retrieve my sword, but just as my hand touched the hilt, another vârcolac rose from the shattered mirror on my floor.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

There was no hesitation. The vârcolac did not even attempt to assess me as prey; it just pounced, a horrible growling coming from deep in its throat. I gripped my sword but knew the creature was too close for me to succeed in any kind of attack. I managed to jump out of the way, but just as quickly, the vârcolac whirled and charged.

This time, I swung my sword, gripping it with both hands. The blade cut into the vârcolac’s paw but did not sever it. Blood poured onto my hilt and my hands, and while I tried to jerk my blade free, the vârcolac snapped at me. I fell to the ground to avoid its bite and crawled, but was flattened on the ground by a giant paw, its five sharp claws sinking into my back. I screamed and twisted, shoving my dagger into its arm.