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It offered a loud shriek that rang in my ears, and I was able to stumble to my feet and run. I hit the doorframe, unsteady on my feet, and when I made it into the hallway, Sorin was facing two vârcolaci, the one behind me having also followed. I leaned against the wall, weak, and I thought of Sorin and our sessions. They moved through my mind quickly, and I latched on to a few words he had spoken.

This is magic, he’d said.You just have to reach for it.

I recalled how I had felt during the spell in the woods. How it had felt like my very womb had split open, and it had been full of light, full of magic, full of warmth, and it had given me hope—and then it felt as though it had been taken, snatched from me by hate.

But it hadn’t. It had just been suppressed.

It was afraid, just as I was afraid now.

That was the design of oppression.

I turned my head toward the vârcolac, and a growl vibrated in my throat. It was the first time I’d witnessed the monster pause to assess me. I pushed off the wall and growled louder, the sound animalistic, primal. Then I took off down the hallway, my legs carrying me faster than they ever had before.

I felt my insides changing, and the pain was acute. It made me gnash my teeth, which had elongated. Blood spilled on the ground as my claws exploded from my fingertips, and as I changed, I launched myself at the two vârcolaci facing Sorin. He was bleeding badly, only holding his sword with one hand, the other arm limp at his side.

I went for the neck as I collided with one of the vârcolaci and bit down hard, yanking as we landed. The other creature slammed into me, and I flew across the floor, hitting the banister of the stairs, but I bounced back to my feet, a growl rumbling in my throat. I sprang, but so did the vârcolac, and we tangled in the air, biting and lashing at one another. We landed in a heap, continuing the close combat. The creature bit my shoulder, and its claws sank into my belly. I screamed in its face and then bit its snout and did not let go, my claws digging into its sides, and I only released the creature when I felt its hold on me lessen. Once it did, I tore out its neck just as I had the other.

Sorin’s cry drew my attention, and when I turned to face the final vârcolac, the tracker had been thrown down the hall. His back hit the wall, and he slid to the ground, unmoving.

I snarled and shot toward the monster. Our bodies hit hard, and it knocked the breath from my body, snapping my ribs. When I landed on my feet, opposite the vârcolac, pain shot through me, and yet I charged again. Our teeth sank into each other’s shoulders, and as we landed, we rolled. I could not manage to get the upper hand, and I lay beneath the creature, its claws sinking deep inside me. And while I tried to lock my jaw into the monster, pain shot through me, roaring from my throat, and I released it.

But then there was a wet sound, and blood poured onto my body. The vârcolac lessened its hold and then fell, landing beside me on the ground. I turned my head to find Sorin, standing with his bloodied blade.

I wanted to call his name, but I could not speak in this form, and I had no idea how to shift back.

He looked down at me, and there was something horrifying about his face, a darkness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Isolde,” he said and lifted his blade.

Shock left me immobile as his sword sank into my chest. I screamed, and as I did, I felt myself changing back. Tears poured from my eyes, and Sorin fell to his knees beside me, gathering me to his chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. He was crying too.

I did not want him to touch me. I could not understand why he was holding me.

“Why?” I asked, my mouth quivering.

“Because he has to die,” Sorin said. “Adrian will destroy us, Isolde. None of us can fight him. You have to understand. You once understood.”

I shook my head.

“The Book of Dis,” he continued. “You wrote those spells for him.”

“How do you know that?” I whispered.

Ravena had just toldme.

“I know a lot more than you think.”

“You are a traitor,” I said. “You arethetraitor. You told Ravena about the bloodletting.”

Sorin’s brows lowered. “I am many things,” he said. “A traitor among them, but I did not tell Ravena anything.”

“I don’t believe you,” I said.

“I am not choosing one side over the other.”

“Then you are weak,” I said, and he winced, closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them again and gazed upon me, his treason only hurt worse because I did not see the hate I wanted to see. I saw regret and sorrow and deep, deep sadness.