POV: Ronan Montague

Ian held the detonator like it was a trophy.

I assessed the situation instantly. Twelve students bound in silver. The ritual chamber structurally compromised from earlier fighting. Explosives planted throughout the facility. Everyone exhausted from hours of combat.

And Ian standing in the center of it all, holding our lives in his hand.

"Nobody moves," he repeated. "Or everyone dies."

The mate bond's ghost ached in my chest. Juliana had died in a place like this. ...