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“You won’t have a choice.”

“Yeah, right.” She was bored with this. Where were Diablo and Satan? Looking around the clearing, she whistled, but there was no answer, the woods surrounding them silent.

Something moved at the edge of her vision, and she whirled around.

For a moment, she saw nothing. Then from all around her, they came out of the darkness, huge forms emerging from the shadowy trees. Her mind clouded as their combined wills concentrated on her. Adrenalin coursed through her veins, and she forced herself to calm down and breathe in deeply. She needed to work out which spell to use, and it would help if she knew what she was dealing with. They stood upright like men, but their features were not human. Their bodies were covered with dark fur, their heads misshapen with protruding jaws, long curved teeth, and pointed ears. They reminded her of her hellhounds, and suddenly she knew what they were.

“Werewolves!” She stared, wide-eyed, at the man who stood in front of her. “You’re a goddamn werewolf.” She’d never seen a werewolf before, not in two thousand years. “Wow.”

“Glad you’re impressed.”

“I never said I was impressed.” She glanced around at the hulking figures circling her. “You’re not exactly a good-looking lot, are you?”

He smiled. “This is our half form. We find it easier to stay in control and perform certain tasks. Not quite as aesthetically pleasing as our full-wolf form as you’ll soon see for yourself.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I think I’ll skip that one. Some other time, perhaps.”

All around her, the bodies pressed closer. A bitter, feral stench filled her nostrils, and she swayed, but at least she knew the magic she needed to stop them. She raised her hand, but before she could speak the words, two of the creatures leapt for her. She went down, crashing to the forest floor where she lay winded, more angry than afraid, but unable to free herself from the hard hands that pressed her into the earth. Fury surged through her, and she fought, writhing against them, but they were stronger than anything she had ever encountered. After a minute of pointless struggle, she forced her body to go limp and allowed the magic to build inside her.

Something touched her side. She peered up to see Ethan Stone standing above her, and she snarled. He laughed and nudged her again with the toe of his boot.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked, her tone deadly.

“I not only know who you are,” he replied. “I know what you are.”

“Then you also know you’ve just signed your own death warrant.”

Ethan ignored the comment and crouched down beside her. “He told me you were spirited. He was right. But don’t worry—we’ll soon cure you of that.”

“You’ll—”

“Shhh,” he murmured, putting his finger to his lips. He was still holding the silver chain. Now he lifted the necklace over her head so it settled around her throat.

As the crystal star touched her skin, a jolt of power slammed through her. She flung her head back as a vise-like grip seized control of her mind. For a moment, it held her frozen, then ripped free. Relief washed over her, and she opened her mouth to fling out the words that would destroy those who dared to hold her.

And nothing happened.

She closed her eyes and searched her mind for her magic. Behind her closed lids, she could see the words, but she couldn’t speak them, only a wordless croak issuing from her throat. Panic flared, clawing at her insides. She tried again, concentrating hard, but the sound that emerged bore no resemblance to the phrases running through her head. Forcing her eyes open, she glared at the man who crouched beside her, a small smile playing across his face.

What have you done?

The words whispered through her head but refused to leave her lips. She reached up to tear the crystal from her throat, but something stopped her, she couldn’t make herself touch the thing. She stared up into Ethan’s darkly amused expression. “What is it?” She mouthed the words.

“The crystal? Oh, it’s just a little trinket, impregnated with witch’s bane. A present from that old acquaintance of yours. Don’t worry—it’s not permanent. That would rather defeat the purpose of this whole little scenario.”

Regan bit down sharply on her lip, the pain focusing her mind, as she searched for an identity. She’d only had one old lover who would have this much power—Sardi. But it couldn’t be Sardi. He was long dead, destroyed by her magic.

“Stop thinking so hard. You’ll find out soon enough.” Ethan straightened. “Get her on her feet and tie her hands.”

They hauled her upright and dragged her wrists behind her, securing them tightly. She stood between her two attackers, not fighting, her mind frantically hunting for answers.

They’d said they needed her. They weren’t going to kill her, or at least not yet. She had to think. She would find a way out, and then they would pay. Especially their leader. She would make sure he regretted this night’s work before he died.

He was studying her now, his face filled with a curious anticipation. When he caught her eye, he grinned, then pulled his T-shirt over his head, tossing it to the ground. He held her gaze as his hands went to his waist and unbuckled his belt. Leaning down, he tugged off his boots then shrugged out of his jeans to stand before her.

Naked, he appeared even bigger, the smooth bulge of muscle clear beneath his skin. Nausea churned in her gut, and her legs trembled with the need to run. He stalked toward her, coming to a halt only a foot away.

“Hold her,” he said, and the claws tightened on her shoulders.