The explosion sent splinters of wood flying.
Makayla barely had time to react before the force knocked her backward. The room filled with smoke and dust, the scent of burning wood thick in the air. She landed hard, her ears ringing, her vision swimming as she tried to push herself up.
Mikhail was already moving.
He had leaped to his feet the second the explosion hit, dragging Gino away from the blast. His fangs were bared, golden eyes gleaming in the dim light as he scanned the wreckage.
Celine didn’t hesitate.
She was in front of them in a blur, a dagger already drawn, her stance rigid as she faced the shattered doorway.
And beyond it—
A figure stepped into the ruins of the safehouse.
Makayla’s blood ran cold.
They weren’t human.
Tall, wrapped in thick dark robes, their face hid
