Page 63 of The Midnight Death Match

Inside, something shifts. The same old pressure curls beneath my skin, but clearer this time.

The curse wants me frozen. The pack wants me broken. Neither will get what they want.

I hold my chin high and meet Einar’s gaze. “I’m going.”

Chapter

Twenty-Three

We rushto gather our things then head out. My pulse drums in my ears harder, louder with each step I take.

Harek’s parents have been kidnapped. Taken hostage. It hardly seems possible.

If anyone harms them, I will personally make them pay.

The forest changes as we cross into their territory. The air grows heavier and still. Even the birds have gone silent.

My skin prickles, and all my senses go on high alert. My inner wolf feels like it’s pacing inside me.

The rogue pack’s scent marks linger everywhere. They’re sharp, territorial, and thick with old magic that pricks at the back of my throat. My wolf stirs all the more beneath my ribs.

I tighten my grip on my sword hilt as we move through the dense undergrowth.

Einar leads us forward, his steps sure but cautious. Harek walks close beside me, silent but tense, his jaw clenched. Every line in his body screams restraint.

His parents are out here somewhere.

Lys follows close behind, disturbingly calm. His voice is quiet as he speaks. “They’ve been preparing this for some time. Every ward here screams with anticipation.”

I straighten my back. “They want me scared.”

“They want youdesperate,” Lys corrects. “Fear makes you reactive, but desperation makes you reckless.”

“Isn’t that the point? To draw me out?”

“Exactly.” He smiles faintly. “Which means we’re exactly where they want us.”

Einar glances back. “Focus.”

As if I need the reminder.

Every step grows tighter, my wolf’s instincts sharpening with the raw scent of other wolves ahead. Territorial rage tightens inside me, ready to snap. I force it down. I have to. If I lose control here, they’ll use it against me.

“We’re close.” Tension thickens Harek’s voice. “I know this clearing. My father brought me here when I was a boy.” His eyes narrow. “They’ll be waiting.”

I nod.

We continue on, slipping like shadows between the dense trees, the pulse of corrupted wards humming softly through the earth beneath our feet.

It feels like a trap, but I don’t know what or where it is. The trees eventually thin into a wide clearing ahead, moonlight slashing silver streaks across the open ground. Two figures come into view, bound at the base of a gnarled black tree.

Harek’s parents. They’re alive, but they’re pretty beat up. And not alone.

Rogue wolves prowl at the edges of the clearing, half-shifted forms crouched low, their eyes gleaming amber in the dark. Shadows coil behind them, magic weaving through the trees like black mist. They haven’t made any effort to hide. Theywantus to see them.

The pack’s leader stands at the center of the glade, tall and broad, fur rimming his shoulders even in partial shift. His voice rumbles out across the space before we step fully into view. “Took you long enough.”

The hairs at the back of my neck raise. My wolf strains inside me, recognizing dominance play, recognizing threat. I fight it down again. It isn’t time.