Elena barreled down I-26 as fast as she dared, flicking constant glances in her rearview mirror. No sign of Stephen's big black Hummer. Maybe she'd lost him the last time she'd doubled back, though how he could miss a candy-apple-red Ferrari was anybody's guess.

A green highway marker drew her attention. Ten miles to Harrisville, South Carolina.

Ten miles to safety.

She scooped up the ragged newspaper clipping from the passenger seat and darted it another glance. Candice was right—Lucas definitely looked as if he could set Stephen back on his heels.

The question was, did Elena have the right to ask him to do it? Stephen didn't play around, and he was obviously out for blood even before he knew Lucas was in the picture. Once he did…

Take two Alpha males, add a female in her Burning Moon, and you had a prescription for bloodshed.

Dammit, Elena thought, disgusted with herself, she was a descendent of Wulfgar. If she had half the guts she was supposed to, she'd leave Lucas out of it and find some way to take care of Stephen herself.

Trouble was, Elena was simply no match for an Alpha. For one thing, she didn't have the combat skills, despite her earlier success. Stephen would mop up the floor with her, and he'd do it with no compunction whatsoever. Even aside from the effects of the Burning Moon, she'd disobeyed her father, the Alpha of the Livingston clan. In Stephen's eyes, she deserved whatever he did to her. Most of the Chosen, male and female alike, would agree.