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They’d turn highly aggressive and would attack anything, even if they had no chance of winning, leaving a trail of corpses behind them until they eventually starved to death.

Rabid howlers didn’t eat, only slaughtered.

This sick pack had been reported a week ago with a warning that they were slowly moving closer to House Harker territory.

I’d been sparring with the rangers when the report had come in.

Emil had specifically told me to stay out of it when he’d caught my interest in the news. But the daily sparring hadn’t been cutting it anymore, and I needed an outlet to vent my frustrations on.

For a few moments, I’d managed to forget that my world was on fire. The fight had given me some clarity, and even though I felt the embers burning again, I knew I’d be able to concentrate better for at least a day or two.

Then I’d need to find something to kill again.

Emil gave me an understanding look. Everyone at House Harker was feeling the strain. The Head of the House, the Heir, and the Marshal were all gone. Everyone knew Carmilla was at the Sovereign House, but no one had seen Samara or Vail.

Neither of them, or Carmilla for that matter, had sent any messages to clear up the confusion.

Something was very wrong. We all knew it, and we all had different ways of coping while we tried to figure it out.

Adrienne was staring daggers at me from atop her enormous chestnut stallion.

Her way of coping had me grinding my teeth on most days.

She was second-in-command with Vail being gone and had a tendency to be overprotective of everyone, like she alone could keep us all safe through sheer force of will.

Before, it had been Nyx who had borne the brunt of Adrienne’s obsessive protective inclinations, but that had now been extended to me, Roth, and Kieran.

Roth rolled with it, mostly because it was hard to get them out of the library, so the only thing they fought with Adrienne about was eating regularly. Aside from that, they were able to handle Adrienne’s constant hovering.

Kieran and I did not handle it well.

Emil sighed, likely sensing the brewing fight between me and Adrienne.

He’d been the one to break up the fight between her and Kieran, though not before Kieran got a split lip and a black eye.

Adrienne might have been the protective sort, but she also had a wicked temper—and if she thought knocking us out was the best way for her to achieve her goals, she’d absolutely do it.

“Do you need a ride back?” Emil asked. “We should get out of here. The blood is going to attract all kinds of nasty things.”

“Which is why we planned to draw the pack farther from the House,” Adrienne growled.

I winced. It had actually been my intention to do just that, but I’d underestimated just how good the creatures’ sense of smell was.

The howlers had been on me before I could attempt to get them farther away .

. . which was no doubt one of the reasons Emil had ordered me to not go after them.

Not just for my own safety, but because this was what the rangers did.

None of them would have made the mistake I had.

“We can send extra patrols this way.” Nyx mounted their bay gelding. “Just to keep an eye on things. I’ll make sure it gets done.”

“You will not be on those patrols.” Adrienne finally stopped glaring at me to give Nyx a sharp look.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Nyx replied smoothly.

I was pretty sure they were lying, and based on how Adrienne narrowed her eyes at the young ranger, she clearly thought the same. Good. Maybe Nyx could draw her ire for a while.

“Ride?” Emil repeated calmly.

I raised my fingers to my lips and whistled.

Moments later, a dark grey mare came charging past the tree line at the other end of the meadow, where she’d been munching on grass like she didn’t have a care in the world while I’d been fighting for my life.

She didn’t bother dodging the howler corpses on the ground; if anything, she purposely went out of her way to stomp on them.

“Brave of you.” Emil’s brows rose. “That horse is evil incarnate.”

Zosa slid to a stop in front of me, howler blood smeared across her legs and stomach, and her dark eyes were full of a fire and rage that echoed my own soul.

“We have an understanding.” I stroked the mare’s nose. “She’ll take me where I need to go, and I’ll kill anything that stands between me and the woman who owns both our souls.”

“Still no messages from her or the Sovereign House.” My fingers tightened on the stone wall of the balcony just off the aviary where we kept the strikers.

“Told you we wouldn’t hear anything.” Roth gave me a flat look. “Can I return to the library now, or would you prefer to waste my time further?”

This was exactly why I’d snuck out this morning to hunt down the rabid howlers. I’d needed something to take the edge off so I could deal with Roth.

I’d gotten used to their taciturn personality since Roth had moved to House Harker, but it’d been different ever since Samara—along with Vail and Draven—had vanished.

Thanks to Kieran’s connections, we were pretty certain they were all at the Sovereign House, but the other information we’d received was confusing . . . and disturbing.

Supposedly, Carmilla had overthrown Queen Velika with the help of Velika’s consort, Samara’s ex-husband Demetri .

. . and Vail. What had happened to Samara and Draven after that was a little harder to determine.

There were rumors that the prince was dead, something that didn’t bother me all that much but had sent Kieran spiraling.

Nobody had seen Samara recently, but one guard who was loyal to Kieran said she was in the dungeon.

That couldn’t be right though. If Carmilla had truly overthrown the Sovereign Queen—something that was hard to come to terms with because we all thought they’d been friends despite Velika’s ill intentions—why would she throw her niece into the dungeon?

Carmilla had helped raise Samara after her parents had been killed and had always been fiercely protective of her, and Samara was completely loyal to her aunt.

None of this made sense. It had been almost two weeks since Samara and Vail had left on their mission to find the other half of the lost Fae crown that supposedly could override the free will of others.

Velika had the other half, and those two had raced off to make sure she didn’t get the second piece.

Against my better judgment, we’d told Draven where they’d been heading when he’d demanded to know, and he’d gone after them.

I glanced at Kieran, who hadn’t even acknowledged us when Roth and I had barged up here. Even now, all his attention was on the letter he was composing.

He loved Samara . . . and Draven. Both of the people who mattered to him more than anyone else—vanished. Samara, I understood. She and Kier had been in love the moment they’d laid eyes on each other. The prince . . . that I was still having a hard time wrapping my head around.

I hadn’t even known Kieran and the prince had been involved until recently, which was something I was still a little pissed off about. Kieran had been my best friend for well over a decade, and he’d kept something major from me.

Despite Draven’s declarations about caring for Samara, I still didn’t trust the Moroi Prince.

Velika was his mother, and we knew he was working for the wraiths and had helped them slaughter several of our outposts in recent years.

Despite that, Kieran loved him, and Roth, of all people, backed Kieran up when he suggested we tell Draven.

I was the odd person out, but even I had gone along with it because, despite my feelings about Draven, I did believe there was something between not only him and Kieran but Samara too.

And it wasn’t a minor something. Not with the fierce and possessive look he’d had in his eyes that day.

“Apologies, Roth.” I spun around and leaned against the stone wall, crossing my arms over my chest. “Do you have something useful to add? By all means, speak up and let us know what you’ve found in the library that will answer what the fuck is going on right now.”

Fiery orange flecks burned in Roth’s hazel eyes as their bloodlust rose.

They’d barely left the library for the past two weeks, but after I’d returned and cleaned myself off, I’d gone there to find them waging war on the books.

Several of them had pages torn out, and Roth was cursing in languages I didn’t even recognize.

I’d tried to calm them down, but they’d only stormed out, as if the books had betrayed them in failing to provide an answer.

It’d taken some doing, but I’d convinced them to come up here for some fresh air. I’d had no idea if it would help, but I needed Roth to keep it together because I barely was . . . and Kieran definitely wasn’t.

Given Roth’s current mood, I kept one eye on their forearms, where bloodred ropes were looped. They used to be flat ribbons, but now the fabric was thicker and looked like three pieces braided together, making it more rope-like.

The only place Roth had spent any time besides the library was the target range in the training yard.

On particularly bad days, they’d trash a dozen targets.

With half a thought, they’d have their ropes unwinding from their arms and shooting towards the wood targets we used for archery, and blood-colored protrusions would jut out seconds before the ropes made contact, slicing through the wood.

Roth had always been a bit grumpy and standoffish, but this viciousness was something new that we were all getting used to.

At the rate Roth and I kept going at each other, I knew my blood would be dripping from those ropes sooner rather than later.