Danielle woke with a sudden gasp, her eyes shooting open. She was in the bedroom. The dream... The nightmare... It was over...
She lay there, staring at the ceiling, tears slowly falling from her eyes.
The death... All the death...
Danielle didn’t move. Couldn’t. The ceiling above her blurred and sharpened through the tears she hadn’t meant to cry.
They’d died for her. All of them. Even Kevin and his mother had died because of the prophecy, the White Wolf. Her.
Her mother’s white fur, gleaming like snow. Her father’s voice, broken but defiant. Emory’s arms cradling her like something precious.
And the Hunters—so close.
She clenched the sheets with numb fingers, her chest rising and falling like she’d run miles. But she hadn’t moved. The weight wasn’t in her limbs—it was in her hear
