Ava had never experienced a longer weekend. It didn’t help that they had Monday off of school. She had far too much time on her hands. Even with Ry and Diana handing around, trying to keep her and Abigail distracted, she was losing her mind. All she wanted was to find out who was after her pack, but there were no leads, no hope of knowing the truth.

Instead, she found herself waiting until she could return to school, get out of the house, and go back to the routine she’d so quickly developed. She tried to hate how much she wanted it, but everytime she did, she thought of Camilla’s laugh, of how nice it was to have a friend outside the pack, and she got over it. Not that she told anyone that. Abigail never would have let her hear the end of it.

Though she’d have to be paying enough attention to hear what Ava was trying to tell her over the sounds of Diana’s laugh. Abigail was practically hanging on the redhead’s every word, every sound. Ava couldn’t fault her for that, though. It had been a long time since Abigail had been so invested in anyone, let alone someone as wonderful as Diana.

Of course, Ava could do without the two of them leaving her alone with Ry so much. No matter how much time she spent with him, she still couldn’t bring herself to be comfortable around him. His piercing stare constantly set her on edge, kept her from relaxing. To her credit, she seemed to have the same effect on him. They were always either at each other’s throats or pretending the other didn’t exist, to Diana and Abigail’s chagrin.

“I don’t see why you can’t get along with him,” Abigail had said Saturday night. Ava hadn’t even looked up from her pillow, electing to ignore her friend.

“I mean really,” Abigail continued. “He’s a good guy. A little awkward, and a bit of a hardass, but a good person. Just give him a chance,” she pleaded. Ava groaned, but cracked open an eye.

“He’s an asshole,” Ava snapped. “I can’t stand him. I’m not gonna play nice just because you like his sister.”

“Who’s the asshole now?” Abigail demanded, hurling a pillow at Ava. “What has he even done that’s so terrible you can’t bear to be polite? Please. Give me a reason. If you can.”

Ava opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out. She didn’t have a reason, not really, not one she could explain. She couldn’t find the words to tell Abigail how much she hated the way Ry stared through her, into her, as if he saw everything she was thinking. Couldn’t explain how she hated how vulnerable he made her feel.

“That’s what I thought,” Abigail sighed. “Look, I’m not saying you have to like him. Just maybe don’t pick fights with him every time he opens his mouth.” Ava didn’t respond, but Abigail hadn’t pressed the issue further, rolling over and quickly falling asleep. Ava tried not to be envious. She’d be awake a good while longer.

***

The man in front of her gave a sick, near hysterical laugh. The amulet on his chest gleamed dully in the shaft of moonlight he was standing in. Ava, on the other hand, was drenched in shadows, a few paces away. The abandoned house she’d found him in was falling apart, but there were still places free of the light.

“Come to kill me, monster?” the man asked, laughing again. His eyes flashed with a manic light, and it was then Ava realized how truly insane he was. The knife in his hand danced across his fingers, making light bounce through the room. She wanted nothing more than to rip his face off, but…

“No, you’re going to go to the police and tell them everything you did,” Ava said, voice like shattered glass, like solid ice. “And I’m not going to touch you. I’m not a monster.”

You can’t make me do anything, bitch,” he snarled. “I’ve got a silver knife with your name on it. We’ll see if you can still turn into a wolf once I cut you with it.”

He doesn’t know, Ava thought, teeth pulling back from her lips in a feral grin.Maybe she would have a bit of fun with him before she took him to the police station.

“Are you sure you don’t want to make this easy?” Ava half-growled. Her canines were a bit too long for her mouth, but it didn’t matter. Soon they’d fit again.

“You can’t touch me,” he laughed. Saints, he liked to laugh. “Not with this,” he said, tapping the amulet on his chest. Ava hesitated before taking a step forward, not sure if he could be believed.

“It protects me, won’t let you use your abilities on me,” he said. “Won’t let you shift if you take another step closer, either. As long as I’m wearing it, you won’t be able to do anything.” Ava scoffed, moving closer, and hid the surprise from her face when she did, in fact, feel her abilities slipping away.

She didn’t give him any sign of her vulnerability, though. After all, this was why she’d learned to fight. She’d always known one day she wouldn’t be able to rely on her abilities, and now, with Dahlia’s killer feet from her, she was grateful she’d done it.

She knew what she had to do, the way she’d twist his hand, take the knife, slice straight through the cord around his neck. If what he said was true, it was only effective if it was on his person. So she’d kick it across the room, just to be safe, and hopefully free her powers long enough to bring him to his knees.

Before he could strike, Ava left into action. It should have been easy, but inexplicably, her feet slid out from under her, gravity pulling her to the floor. In a heartbeat, he was on her, knife poised over her chest, tauntingly.

“You’ll be a fun toy,” he whispered near her ear. Ava shuddered, bucked, fought to be free, but her panic was working against her. The knife scraped against her collarbone and she fought harder, despite the blood that began dripping down her chest.

No, she thought. This isn’t right. This isn’t how this is supposed to go. This isn’t what happened-

***

Ava fell out of bed with a thud, chest heaving. Her hand flew to her collarbone, perfectly smooth and unmarred by any silver blades. Then, her hand flew to her stomach, moments before she bolted for the door and to the bathroom. She barely made it in time.

Ava retched into the toilet, hugging the cool sides. The nightmares were back, and she knew this wouldn’t be the last time she’d wake up only to run to the bathroom. Every time Ava so much as thought about the nightmares, she wanted to puke; experiencing them was much worse.

Ava’s stomach heaved again, and she bit back a groan of misery. She wasn’t sure what was worse: the nightmares or what came after. Finally, Ava felt the sickness abating, and she sat back from the toilet.

It had been a long time since she dreamed of that night, but it had never been like this before. Usually, when she dreamed of that man, it was of what she had done, how she’d lost control. She’d never dreamed of her own body failing her. Of losing. She hoped against hope this didn’t mean anything. Had nothing to do with the new Hunter they were dealing with.

Ava never lost. She didn’t that night, and she never would. This was just a new threat getting to her. She would be fine. The pack would be fine. She would make sure of it.