EMBER’S POV

Logan Reeves looks like demon wearing a man’s skin.

The polished businessman I’ve always known is gone — eaten through by weeks of possibly not sleeping or eating.

He’s thinner in the face, hollowed under the eyes, vibrating with an unhinged frequency.

His wolves form a loose circle that tightens as I skid to a halt, and every single one of them is watching me with the flat, patient hunger of predators who haven’t been told whether to kill me or not.

I try to step back and two of his men are already there, closing the gap behind me. The circle is complete.

“Seems you’ve gotten yourself...