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My blood froze in my veins. "Valentine."

"The very same," he replied, sounding almost pleased. "Though I'm a bit different from when we last met."

"If you've hurt him—" I began, but he cut me off with a laugh.

"Danny and your cubs are perfectly safe. For now. The half-breed too." The casual mention of our unborn children made my vision go red with rage. "But I'm afraid that's a temporary state of affairs."

"What do you want?" I demanded, struggling to keep my voice steady.

"Simple. I want you, Alpha Olsen. Alone and unarmed, at the old cave on the north ridge. I will be able to sense if any other wolves or bears come within ten miles." He paused, then laughed mirthlessly. "You know the one—where your father used to cage you, except I added a few upgrades. And if I see so much as a patch of fur, I will cut those beasts from his belly one at a time while he watches.”

The phone fell from my numb fingers. Phoenix was in front of me before I could move, his hand on my chest. "Bayer, no. This is exactly what he wants."

I shoved him aside, harder than I meant to. He stumbled but caught himself. "Get out of my way."

"Listen to me—" Phoenix started, but I was already moving toward my truck.

"I said move!" I roared, my bear so close to the surface that my vision was tinged with gold. "He has Danny. He has our cubs. I'm not negotiating this."

Phoenix grabbed my arm, and I spun on him, fur rippling beneath my skin.

"He'll kill you the second you arrive," Phoenix said, his voice low and urgent. "Then he'll kill Danny anyway. Use your head."

"My mate—" I began, but Emery cut me off.

"Will die if you walk into this like a martyr," he said, his voice breaking. "That's my father, Bayer. I know how he thinks. He's already won if you go alone."

I stared at them, my chest heaving. Every instinct I had screamed at me to go, to fight, to tear Christopher Valentine apart with my bare hands. But the rational part of my brain—the part that made me an alpha—knew they were right.

"Then what?" I demanded, my voice raw. "What do we do?"

Before anyone could answer, the air around us shifted. It wasn't dramatic—no thunder or lightning—just a sudden pressure change that made my ears pop. I turned to see two figures materializing from the shadows near the tree line.

Esther walked toward us with measured steps, her face grave. Beside her was Estrelle, her twin sister. The resemblance was uncanny, but where Esther carried herself with quiet authority, Estrelle had always tried to hide. I couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to be trapped with the silver-skins for all those years. But something about her was different now—her spine straighter, her eyes clearer, and I realized it was her ability that had the hair on my arms prickling. Esther had always said her sister was the one with the true talents, and now it was obvious. The haunted look I'd seen since she’d been rescued was gone, replaced by something that looked almost like purpose.

"Wait," Estrelle said simply, her voice carrying across the yard with unnatural clarity.

I bristled. "I don't have time—"

"You do if you want Danny back," Esther interrupted, her voice softer than her sister's but no less commanding. "Which means you have time to listen."

Phoenix stepped forward. "What do you know?"

The twins exchanged a look. Then Estrelle turned to me, her dark eyes meeting mine with an intensity that made my bear still.

"We know how to defeat Christopher," she said quietly. "And more importantly, how Ben is going to make sure you succeed."

Chapter thirty-two

Danny

The first thing I became aware of was the throbbing pain in my neck, followed closely by a bone-deep cold that seemed to seep into every part of me. My head felt stuffed with cotton, my thoughts sluggish and scattered.

I tried to open my eyes, but even that simple action felt like pushing through wet cement. When I finally managed it, the dim light sent spikes of pain through my skull.

"Danny? Danny, can you hear me?"

Ben's voice cut through the fog, and I turned my head—slowly, painfully—toward the sound. He was huddled—chained—against a rough stone wall, his eyes wide with fear and something that looked a lot like guilt.