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Together, the two Highland wolves advance on us. I growl as well, widening my stance. Malakai moves fast, his years of experience and training kicking in as he takes them on, two at once.

I watch, too caught up in the fight to move. After he pins one of the wolves down, forcing him to submit, Malakai catches my eye and nods toward the village.

His intent is clear.Go see if Cleo is there.

I turn and run toward it, shifting only when I step onto the main village road.

Everything looks abandoned. It’s eerie. Every few feet, I sniff, trying to pinpoint where Cleo could be. My heart aches to hold her again, to see with my own two eyes that she’s safe and well.

I pass a broken-down car, already rusted over. The scent of wolves is stronger here, and I’m on high alert. Just as I pass the car, a little head pops up, and I startle. A flash of red and then a scrawny, familiar-looking boy is crawling out onto the road. He has a long scrape on his arm, and his clothes are filthy.

“Gage?” I ask uncertainly.

He looks at me and nods shortly.

“They have your girl, the pretty one who likes butterflies,” he says gruffly.

My pulse starts to pound.

“Do you know where she is? Is she okay?” I rush out, worry coloring my tone.

Gage looks around cautiously. Seeing no one, he takes another step forward.

“She’s in the cabin. But…” He shifts his gaze to the buildings and then toes his foot in the dirt. I look down and see that his shoes have holes in them.

This poor kid.

“Gage, I have to find her. Please, tell me where she is. I’m begging you.”

“It’s over there,” he says, pointing up the hill. His face is pinched with fear, but he takes a deep breath and throws his shoulders back with courage and determination. “Here, I’ll walk with you.”

“Thank you,” I breathe, hurrying in the direction he pointed.

I’m so close. I can feel it.

We don’t see anyone on our way up to the cabin. I climb up the hill, panting once I get to the top. The cabin looks abandoned, with boarded-up windows and peeling paint. But Cleo’s scent is strong here.

Hope blooms in my chest.

I try the door handle, but it’s locked. There’s an old piece of firewood lying on the porch. I pick it up and hurl it at the window with all my might. It takes three tries to fully break the window on the front door, but I manage it. Carefully, I reach through the empty pane and turn the lock on the door, stepping inside.

The cabin is dark and smells of rotting food and waste.

“Cleo?” I call out softly.

A scuffling noise comes from the corner, and I hurry toward it.

“Mama! You came!”

My heart leaps as I rush over to find Cleo, dirty and disheveled but alive. She’s huddled on a pile of dirty blankets. I gather her in my arms, relief washing over me.

My girl is safe. For one beautiful moment, my world feels right again.

A loud slap cracks through the air, followed by a whimper of pain. I whirl around, shoving Cleo behind me.

Sylvie is standing in the doorway, her face streaked with dirt. She has Gage cowering in the doorway.

“You are everywhere,” she snarls, “Like a goddamn cockroach. I think it’s time someone exterminated you like the vermin you are.”