AMARIS’S POV
Contrary to what many might think, I’ve never had a near-death experience.
It was almost unbelievable.
With family that hated me enough to hurt me, an illness that tried to kill me, and pack mates who found joy in my misfortune.
Or my mates.
But none of it—not Lilith, not my sickness, not even the triplets and their cruelty—came close to this.
Because when a warm body yanked me back and a blade kissed my throat, pressing just enough to bite into my skin, I felt something I’d never felt before.
The cold certainty of death.
“Helia Voss,” Theron snarled.
The woman behind me—Helia—laughed.
It wasn’t normal. Not even close.
It was light, theatrical, nasal.
The room shifted, suddenly dropping to suffocating silence, buzzing with an undercurrent of hostile energy.
Every
