Sylvie stared at the photograph of the pink wolf, her hands shaking so badly she could barely hold it steady. The eyes in the picture were identical to the ones she saw in the mirror every morning. Same shape, same unusual flecks of gold around the edges, same intensity.

"Where did you get this?"

"That's not the right question," Myles said, his voice calm and controlled. "The right question is why I'm showing it to you."

She looked up from the photograph. "Fine. Why are you showing me a picture of a wolf?"

"Because three hours ago, someone tried to kill you with a chandelier. And I think the reason has everything to do with what you are, not what you know."

"What I am? I'm a journalist. I write articles about corrupt politicians and embezzlement schemes. I'm nobody special."

Maya moved closer to the desk. "Myles, she really doesn't know. Look at her."

"Know what?" Sylvie's voice cracked on the words. "Will someone please explain what's happening?"

Myles stood up and walked to one of the tall windows.

Outside, police cars and ambulances had their lights flashing, casting red and blue patterns across his face.

He was quiet for so long that she started to wonder if he'd forgotten she was there.

"Ms. Carter, what do you remember about the night your parents died?"

The question hit her like a physical blow. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything. Tell me what you remember." She set the photograph down on his desk and gripped the arms of her leather chair.

"I was sixteen. They were driving home from dinner. A truck ran a red light and hit them. They died instantly."

"Where were you?"

"At home with Jenna. She was fourteen." The memories were still painful, even eight years later. "The police came to tell us around midnight."

"And after that?"

"After that we went to live with our aunt in Queens until I turned eighteen. Then I got us our own place." She looked at Maya, then back at Myles. "I don't understand what this has to do with wolves or chandeliers or whatever you think I'm supposed to know."

Myles turned away from the window and walked back to his desk. He opened another drawer and pulled out a thick manila envelope. "Your parents weren't driving home from dinner that night," he said. "They were driving home from a meeting. A meeting with representatives of the Blackthorn Pack."

"The what?"

"My pack. My family's territory." He opened the envelope and spread several documents across the desk. "Your parents were part of a supernatural community that most humans don't know exists. And they were killed because someone wanted to make sure their daughters never learned the truth about what they were."

Sylvie's vision started to blur around the edges. "Supernatural community?"

"Werewolves, Ms. Carter. Your parents were werewolves. And unless I'm very much mistaken, so are you."

The room spun. She gripped the chair arms harder, trying to anchor herself to something solid. "That's insane."

"Is it?" Maya's voice was gentle. "Have you ever felt like you were different, but you couldn't explain how?"

The questions hit too close to home. All her life, she'd been able to hear conversations from across crowded rooms. She could smell when people were lying, though she'd never been able to explain how. And lately, especially when she was stressed or angry, she felt like something was trying to claw its way out of her chest.

"That doesn't prove anything," she said, but her voice sounded weak even to her own ears.

Myles sat down across from her and leaned forward. "Three months before your parents died, they contacted my father. They wanted to discuss bringing their daughters into the pack community. They said their eldest daughter was showing signs of her heritage."

"Signs like what?"

"Enhanced senses. Unusual strength. Protective instincts toward her younger sister that went beyond normal sibling bonds."

She thought about all the times she'd gotten into fights defending Jenna. All the times she'd known exactly when her sister was in trouble, even when they were miles apart. All the nights she'd woken up from dreams about running through forests on four legs instead of two.

"Even if that were true," she said, "it doesn't explain why someone would want to kill me."

"Doesn't it?" Myles pulled out another document and slid it across the desk. "This is your bloodline, Ms. Carter. Your family tree going back six generations."

She looked down at the paper and saw names written in careful handwriting. Most of them meant nothing to her, but at the top of the page, one name made her breath catch in her throat.

"Luna Elena Carter. Your great-great-grandmother." Myles tapped the name with his finger. "She was one of the most powerful Lunas in North American werewolf history. Her bloodline was thought to have died out fifty years ago."

"Luna?"

"The female leader of a werewolf pack. The Alpha's mate and equal partner in pack leadership."

Maya moved to stand behind Myles' chair. "Lunas are rare, Sylvie. Most female werewolves are strong, but true Lunas have power that goes beyond physical strength. They can sense pack bonds, influence pack dynamics, even challenge Alphas for leadership."

"And you think I'm one of these Luna things because my great-great-grandmother was?"

"I think you're one because of what happened tonight," Myles said. "That chandelier didn't fall randomly, and it wasn't meant to kill you accidentally. Someone knows what you are, and they want you dead before you can claim your heritage."

Sylvie stood up so fast her chair rolled backward. "This is crazy. You're talking about werewolves and Lunas and pack leadership like it's all real, but it can't be real. People don't turn into wolves."

"Don't they?" Myles stood as well, and suddenly the office felt much smaller. "You saw me move tonight, Ms. Carter. You saw me cross fifty feet in the time it took that chandelier to fall. Do you think that's humanly possible?"

She backed toward the window, putting distance between them. "I don't know what I saw."

"Yes, you do. You saw exactly what happened. The question is whether you're brave enough to accept it."

Maya moved to block the door. "Sylvie, we're not trying to hurt you. We're trying to help you understand what you are before someone else tries to kill you for it."

"Why would someone want to kill me for being a werewolf? Even if I believed that's what I am, which I don't."

"Because Luna bloodlines are powerful," Myles said. "A true Luna can challenge pack hierarchies, form alliances between territories, even unite scattered werewolf communities. There are people who profit from keeping werewolves divided and isolated."

"What people?"

"Rival packs. Corrupt pack leaders. Humans who know about our community and want to control it."

He walked closer, and she could see her own reflection in his sea-green eyes. "Your parents were killed to prevent exactly this conversation from happening."

She pressed her back against the window, the glass cold through her dress. "Prove it."

"Prove what?"

"Prove you're a werewolf. If you want me to believe all this, show me. Change into a wolf right now."

Myles and Maya exchanged another one of those long looks. "Shifting isn't something we do lightly," Maya said. "It's not a party trick."

"Then how am I supposed to believe you?" Myles was quiet for a long moment, studying her face like he was trying to make a difficult decision.

Then he began unbuttoning his dress shirt.

"Myles, what are you doing?" Maya's voice carried a warning.

"She asked for proof." He shrugged out of the shirt, revealing a chest and arms corded with muscle. "She deserves to know what she's dealing with."

"Not here! It's too dangerous."

"Everything about this situation is dangerous." He kicked off his expensive leather shoes and reached for his belt. "She needs to understand that we're not the ones she should be afraid of."

Sylvie watched in fascination and growing alarm as he undressed without a trace of self-consciousness. His body was built like someone who'd never spent a day without physical training, all lean muscle and controlled power.

But it was his eyes that made her shiver. As she watched, they began to glow with a light that had nothing to do with the office lamps.

"Myles, don't," Maya said.

He ignored her.

The air in the room started to feel electric, his breathing deepened, and she could hear his heartbeat from across the room. Then his bones started to crack.

She pressed herself harder against the window as his body began to change. His spine curved, his face elongated, and his hands transformed into claws. Dark fur sprouted across his skin as his muscles restructured themselves.

The transformation took less than thirty seconds. When it was over, a massive black wolf stood where Myles had been. The wolf was enormous, easily twice the size of any animal she'd ever seen. Its eyes were the same sea-green as Myles' human eyes, but now they held an intelligence that was both human and completely wild.

It took a step toward her, and she realized she was holding her breath. The wolf sat down and tilted its head, watching her with patient attention. Waiting for her reaction.

She stared at the impossible creature in front of her and felt everything she thought she knew about the world crumble into dust.

"Oh. My. God.”