“In our world, Clara, existence is a threat to the throne.”

He raised the gun, aligning the sight with my chest.

“Your mother was smart enough to run away from this family,” he said.

“But she wasn’t smart enough to keep you away.”

The wind howled through the pines, spraying cold water across my face.

I closed my eyes, bracing for the sound of the gunshot, praying the babies wouldn’t feel the fall.

A sudden, heavy crash broke the silence of the woods.

Dominic emerged from the thick shadow of a hemlock tree, throwing his entire weight into Leo’s side.

The flashlight went flying, rolling across the wet ground and illuminating the trunks of the trees in wild, spinning arcs.

Leo fired a wild shot into the air as he fell, the crack of the gun deafeningly loud.

The two brothers hit the muddy ground together, rolling over the sharp pine needles.

Dominic’s white shirt was soaked in blood, the bandages beneath torn and useless.

Yet he fought with a terrifying, primal strength, his hands clawing for Leo’s throat.

Leo brought his elbow down hard against Dominic’s wounded shoulder.