Strapped to her back, I shimmied until I could lay myself somewhat flat. Exhaustion hit me hard despite the wind racing around me. I was warm inside Erik’s coat, and with my face buried in it, I smelled him and remembered I was not alone. I had family in him, Lark, and my pack of misfits. A smile flitted over my lips as I sagged into the restraints holding me to Ophelia’s back.

Sleep swept over me and I drifted into strange dreams of death, fighting, and blood. But the last dream made my breath come in gasps.

Erik held Marcella. They were at a home I recognized, a home I didn’t think he even knew about. My adoptive mother held her hands out. “This is Rylee’s child? You look like Rylee’s father. I met him once, though I don’t think I am supposed to remember that. Things are fuzzy now and again. How did you find me?”

No, no, no. Erik, don’t give her the baby! I wanted to scream at him that she wasn’t what she seemed. But he handed the baby over without hesitation.

“I checked in on Rylee once, when she was little.” He shook his head, seemingly lost in a memory for a split second before he went on. “Rylee would want you to know your grandbaby, I think. And this is a good place to hunker down for a few days. If you don’t mind.” Behind him, Coyote held Zane on his hip. Little Z with his green eyes just like his mother. Milly’s features were plainly stamped on the little boy’s lips and cheeks, and his sweet temperament was obviously still there by the way he curled into Coyote, resting his head on the Guardian’s shoulder.

My heart ached to hold him and my Marcella, to breathe in their innocence and believe the world was right for a moment. The image swung to my adoptive mother as she jiggled Marcella. “Such a beautiful child. Thank God she didn’t get her mother’s hair.”

Erik stiffened and held his hands out as if he saw what I did. “Give her back.”

“No, not yet. I want to hold her tight.”

She lifted her eyes and I saw it then. Not a flicker of red like I’d been suspecting, but a flicker of madness. She’d lost her mind somewhere between losing her daughters, her husband, and then seeing the supernatural come to life. “I want to hold her forever. I can raise her, she can be my new daughter, the one who loves me the best.”

Erik reached for Marcella as she began to cry, fat tears rolling down her sweet soft cheeks. He caught my mother by her arm and stopped her from running. His knuckles turned white as he pressed. “Let her go, or I’ll break your arm.”

She let out a sob and thrust the baby at him. A wave of relief flowed through me. I had no doubt what I was seeing was real.

The door behind them burst open and a bevy of trolls burst through. Their skin hung loosely on their bodies as they grabbed at the babies. Coyote fought with one arm, while he clung to Zane with the other, but the trolls circled him and snatched the green-eyed boy from his arms. He snarled and kept fighting, but despite the fact he was a Guardian, he was still outnumbered.

The trolls poured in like a nest of oversized ants, piling on top of him and weighing him down with sheer numbers. Seeing past the seething bodies was difficult. An arm was flung out of the pile of bodies, and then Coyote’s head.

They’d ripped his head off as he tried to protect Zane.

I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn’t. There was no way to escape what was happening.

No. This was not real. It couldn’t be. Ophelia felt on my horror and tried to soothe me even while I slept, but I pushed her away. I had to see what happened. I had to see if they got away with . . . .

Erik went down under fists and boots, his body encircling Marcella. There was screaming from my mother that was silenced with a meaty thud, the babies were crying at the top of their lungs and then the trolls stepped back from Erik. He was curled around Marcella, but his chest didn’t rise and fall, and the wounds in his back were too many. Marcella still cried under him and by the angle of his knees I knew he was not laying on her but instead holding himself up. Even in death he was protecting her.

Protecting me.

A sob ripped from me, not another family member gone. My chest constricted as I fought to stay in the dream, vision, whatever it was, as long as I could. I couldn’t take my eyes away from Erik’s hunched body or Zane’s little face scrunched in fury.

The door swung open again and a large, bald man stepped into the room. Orion looked right at me, his red eyes glittering. He had done this . . . of course he had.

“You may hold the world in your hands, Tracker. But I have your daughter. What is she worth to you?”

The vision—because I knew without a doubt it was no dream—scattered. I woke screaming, jerking at the rigging that held me to Ophelia’s back. Her roar echoed my panic and pain, and she dropped from the sky. We were somewhere over the northern prairies from the open fields I could see.

I’d slept through the day and the night was upon us again.

“Go, we have to go to them!” I clawed at the leather holding me down with a frantic fury I couldn’t contain, but it made me sloppy.

Rylee, we can’t. There is no time to rescue your daughter. We have to complete the ceremony and pray that it is enough to save not only the world, but Marcella and Zane too.

The pain ripping through me was unbearable. I couldn’t think past it, couldn’t think beyond the fact that Orion had my little girl. He had Zane. He’d killed Erik and Coyote as if they were nothing.

Orion could possess either one of the babies if he so chose, and I would be forced to kill them. A howl ripped out of me that was picked up by a pack of wolves below us; their mournful cries echoing my pain back to me.