Page 102 of Bitten & Burned

And something, down deep, that rattled me. Reminded me of something.

Rage flared suddenly and absolutely. My blood boiled so fast my pulse couldn’t keep up.

She wasmine. Ours.Mine.

I moved faster—still trying not to make noise—but I could already feel the rage taking over. My fangs ached. My hands curled into claws. My blood felt like it was boiling. Pure heat in my veins.

I sprinted, cleared the rail in one leap, and hit the deck with a thud that rattled the boards.

And then I heard her.

Screaming.

And I felt her.

Terrified.

Something broke inside me.

I didn’t think.

I didn’t breathe.

I was on the stairs.

I was at the bottom.

I was in the room.

They had her.

They were tearing Anton’s shirt off her body like she was a carcass being flayed open for scraps.

I lost it.

There was no strategy. No thought. No warning.

I killed.

The first one didn’t even see me—his neck snapped before his eyes registered movement.

The second turned just in time to scream. I ripped him open—hands, fangs, blood—until he stopped moving.

The one holding her took more effort. He fought back. That made it worse for him.

He fought back with a smile on his face as I snapped his forearm.

He went down hard.

Then there was just Rowena.

And one last figure, hunched in the corner, twitching beneath a pillow. Sobbing. Then giggling. Then sobbing again.

Bloodroot.

That was what I’d smelled on them earlier. Bloodroot. Native to the Western Pines. I hadn’t seen it since… not since I’d been human.

It had to be bloodroot. Her pupils were blown, her hands twitching.