“He’s mine.” Raze raced down the steps and vaulted onto the field at the same moment a dozen lycans in lupine form hit the grass, converging on the panicked mass. He went after the leader, who surprisingly stood his ground and faced off with a pistol in hand.

“I could change your life, Raze.”

“Gimme your name.”

“Does it matter?”

Raze shrugged and twirled his blade with practiced ease. “Always good to have a name to go with a kill.”

The man smiled. “You won’t kill me. You need me to tell you if there are more of us, and if so, how many more and where they are. And I won’t kill you because I need you, too. If you’d think outside the box, you’d realize that you could be the cornerstone of massive, sweeping advancement. You could have the mate you deserve. You could-”

“You don’t know what I deserve.”

“Don’t make me hurt you, Raze.” He looked over Raze’s shoulder and his smile widened. “You surprised me by bringing in the Sentinels and their dogs, but we had to get rid of them at some point. Now is as good a time as any.”

Using the man’s distraction, Raze whipped out the blade strapped to his left thigh and threw it, striking the prophet in the throat. The gun discharged. Pain ripped through Raze along with the bullet that shot clear through his shoulder and out the other side. The wound healed almost instantly, proving the man’s words to be true: he didn’t want Raze dead or he’d have used a silver-laced bullet.

Behind him, the field erupted with the sounds of gunfire and the yelps of wounded lycans. Raze dropped to the ground. As the robe-clad minions utilized the weapons they’d hidden beneath their robes, his mind quickly assessed his options. Adrian and a female Sentinel took to the field, their wings deflecting bullets and slashing like blades. Screams rent the air. Bodies were severed into pieces.