Logan's POV

Blood. Everywhere blood.

My hands—why are my hands covered in blood?

Maya. On the ground. Her chest torn open, silver light flickering weakly around her fingers.

'Finish her,' something snarls inside my skull. 'Kill the witch, then the Luna.'

No. That's not—I don't want—

Moira. She's backing away from me, one arm curved around her belly. Fear in her emerald eyes.

'She fears you ...