Prologue

Say, sweet little witchie with the black eyes…

In the safety of her own private quarters— a tiny, drafty trailer just outside of the Research Facility — Lily held the cursed flower in her hand, her heart racing at the possibility of freedom and rest.

She was so, so tired. She’d done too many things, witnessed too many atrocities.

It wouldn’t hurt to be dead for awhile. Just a few days.  And then her friend, Heather, would give her the kiss of life, and the ruse would hopefully have worked. She'd get to leave this hellish research island, return to the mainland, and the government would think she was dead. It was the perfect solution—an answer to all the pain and suffering over the last few years. Lily was tired of being part of the problem and not the solution.

All she had to do was smear the powder from the flower’s roots against her lips, and it’d be over. Roll call would find her in the morning. Dead and unable to perform her duty. Months of preparation had all led to this.

Your brother needs the money, baby. Her mother’s letter this week rolled through her mind, stopped Lily when she was just a hairsbreadth away from her fake death. You make more money than I ever could, and he’s so close to being done with school. Please. Help us.

The plea was a recycled one from years’ of letters and habit. Her mother giving updates on Devin’s progress in medical school. Lily sending her reply along with her paycheck.

Was she being selfish to want a life for herself? Everything in her screamed yes. Her brother had been nothing but good to her growing up, and unlike her, he'd be doing good in the world as a medical doctor.

His deeds would be the one positive in her legacy.

You don’t deserve rest, she told herself before scorching the death rose with her magic. Ash slipped through her fingers.

She’d made her choice.

Chapter 1

THREE WEEKS LATER…

I hope the alpha kills me quickly, Lily prayed as the other mages heralded her towards the heavy industrial door. She dug her metaphorical heels in, but both elite mages had no trouble levitating her state-issued boots above the floor. And, unfortunately, she had no way of defending herself since she’d vented her excess magic away half an hour ago.

The medical director Dr. Hans must’ve read the venting schedule, had known when she’d be defenseless. For a magic-less man, he sure knew the perfect way to feed a witch to a half-mad lycan.

“Stop struggling and keep your heart-rate down, Ortiz,” Heather, one of the elite mages, murmured, “he’ll rip you apart if you keep acting like prey. Control yourself. Give him his suppression shot as ordered and get out.” The stout woman kept her voice low but intense.

Heart hammering disobediently in her throat, Lily looked down at her best friend and colleague, who was doggedly not looking at her. The other woman had always been there for her — helping gather ingredients and supporting her hare-brained schemes.

That Heather now had to feed her to the literal wolf behind the door was beyond cruel.

They reached the door all too soon, Lily attempting to kick the metal in before they levitated her almost to the ceiling. Her feet dangled above Heather’s neat bun as the heavy industrial locks clicked and grinded to an open.

Then Lily was tossed into a dark room. The door slammed with a boom as the locks twisted back into place.

She was officially on her own against the big bad wolf.

Groaning, Lily quickly scooted on her butt until her back hit the wall. She staggered to her feet, and spread her arms out, looking for a light switch. No magic meant no mage light.

Lights, then find the alpha, then shot. Escape. She rehearsed her overly optimistic plan in her head as a low growl slid through the air in warning.

Lily’s hand instinctually went to the needle kit at her hip. At a gnarly five inches, the needle was the only thing she had even remotely resembling a weapon. The growl deepened to a rumble. An enormous shadow rose.

She immediately raised her hands, hyper aware of the hell the lycan patients went through. “I’m not here to hurt you, promise.”

“That’s what the last nurse lied about,” a deep, angry voice reprimanded, “I don’t know what you people want by torturing me, but enough. Now go.”

He sounded so reasonable, especially for a man who’d gone feral and killed another patient only hours before.

“I can’t leave,” Lily said, a little sheepish despite the panic she felt, “they won’t let me out until I’ve given you the shot. You need it to live, anyway. I promise.” A premature change could lead to a mangled mix of organs and bones instead of the beast the government wished to control. Lily wasn’t sure which fate was worse.

The next second, that large shadow was pressed against her, all unyielding muscle as he gripped her wrists in one hand. The takedown happened in less than a second, and the witch found herself helpless.

Then the lights came on and blinded her.

“Tell me a way out of here,” the lycan demanded harshly, “and where the cure is.”

“There is no…” Lily’s eyes adjusted and shock had her trailing off, “Tripp, is that you?”

It’d been five years, but she recognized her brother’s best friend immediately. High cheekbones, sensual lips, and a mean set to his jaw that meant he wasn’t budging an inch.

Only his eyes weren’t the flinty brown she’d loved, but rather a cold, piercing green. At the realization that it was him, all adrenaline fled Lily’s body and she went limp in Tripp’s grip.

He caught her as she knew he would.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, almost pleading with the universe that someone she knew was in this hellhole as a patient. Someone good like Tripp should’ve never set foot in this place.

Tripp’s entire face went slack as he seemed to had at last recognized her, “You smell different,” he told her, “Oh God, Lily.”

He let go of her arms and then was kneeling, inspecting the scratches he’d left. “Fuck, I hurt you,” his sharp teeth flashed as he grimaced, “Fuck.”

He then picked up Lily as if she were made of glass and set her on the bed, his big hands grazing every inch of her as if he needed to make sure she was real.

Tears stung Lily’s eyes as she realized Tripp had uneven, sloppy stitches and staples bisecting his chest from the lycaprothy surgery. They looked agonizing. Dark shadows lined his face. He was the one who needed help, not her.

“Tripp, why are you here? Only prisoners are used for these experiments.” Atrocious, amoral experiments, but ones Lily had come to accept as a conscripted government mage.

Tripp paused in his pawing at her, his expression furious, “I killed a man,” he told her, his voice hard, “Now tell me what the fuck you’re doing in here with me.” He sounded colossally pissed.

She pointed at the suppression kit on the floor. “I’m here to give you suppression medicine,” she said miserably.

“Without backup?” He asked incredulously, “After what I just did?”

Lily’s heart skipped a beat at the reminder that Tripp—her Tripp— had freshly killed a man hours before, separate from his conviction.

But then she snapped out of it, because she was hardly in a position to judge him.“I’m in a bit of trouble,” she told him ruefully, “this was the doctor’s idea of making me fall back in line. I may had been caught passing out No-Pain bracelets to the other patients. He didn’t like that.”

Tripp stared at her, speechless. Lily shrugged and looked away, ashamed.

The heartlessness of Dr. Hans’ reaction had left Lily breathless. The lycan patients were heavily modified with magic and surgery, and so medicine and potions were out of the question. Charms were the perfect remedy for not messing with the very unnatural processes running through the patients’ bodies.

Lily had known the charms would likely put her up shit’s creek, but she’d had enough of being a heartless monster. Of being the government dog who obeyed its master no matter the edict.

How stupid. Like a charm makes up for half a year aiding in this hell. And now here she was, about to jab a needle into the back of a man she’d dreamt of for five long years.

Hands on her shoulders disrupted her self-hatred and she looked up at Tripp, who was smiling down at her. “Hey, stop looking so sad. I’m here. We’re together now.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, “this place is horrible. I don’t know why I picked it for a rotation.”

Tripp’s gaze softened. “I know you don’t get many choices in life, Lily. I remember when you left home. Your brother and I tried to get you to run away, remember?”

How could she forget? It was her favorite memory, the two older teens offering to run away with her to spare her from the military mage academy. Her mother had opted to send her earlier than required in exchange for benefit checks. It had been the least surprising betrayal of all time — Lily’s mother had seen dollar signs as soon as she’d been born, and had raised Lily to understand that she belonged to the government.

It’d been Evan and Tripp who’d been the horrified ones, the ones who’d offered to ruin their lives just for her to have a chance at one.

She’d turned them down. Not because she hadn't wanted to run, but because her brother's future had been too bright to waste it on someone like her and she hadn't wanted Tripp to throw it all away for someone who wasn't even his own flesh and blood. Tears stung her eyes and Lily let her head fall forward onto Tripp's chest.

"You can't be here for what's next," she said angrily. "You're the alpha and they'll treat you the worst. They're going to keep pumping you full of that medicine until every lycan is ready to transform. They’ll use you as a way of triggering everyone else’s transformations. Then they’ll bind you so that your free will is gone. I've seen it happen. I've helped."

Fury singing a siren song in her veins, Lily wiped away her tears, looking away from the man. There was a way to save him, she thought, but you were an idiot who burned it to ash weeks ago.

The Death Rose. She needed to regather the ingredients and perform the ritual for it to sprout.

She was just about to open her mouth, to tell Tripp about her plan, when warm hands cupped her face. A calloused thumb circled a calming pattern into her cheek.

Tripp’s gaze was granite as he lifted her face up to look at him. "And you'll help again," he told her, his tone hard. "You're gonna help them turn me into a monster. You understand? You'll get through this, and then you're gonna transfer as soon as you have the chance."

A little bit of anger flared through Lily at how annoyingly… bossy he sounded. "Stop doing that. You always think you know what's best for me. You're not my older brother."

Tripp fixed her with a hard, irritated look. “You’re not exactly reading the room if you think I have brotherly feelings towards you.”

Old pain flared at yet another loved one rejecting her, but Lily mentally barreled through it, determined to make the man see sense. “Then you’re doing this for Evan,” she said hotly, “because he’s your friend, but I’m my own person. I am not going to obey their orders and hurt you. I don’t think I could live through that.”

She leaned forward, made him really look into her eyes to see she meant it. Lily had never been one to hide her feelings. Her heart was sewn permanently on her sleeve, and he knew it.

Tripp was the first to look away. "Forget about me. Pick that needle up and inject me with whatever shit they want."

Her heart sunk. He’s right. At least for now until the Death Rose sprouts. Don’t give him false hope. Lily fought back a frustrated scream as Tripp let go of her hands and settled onto his stomach on the hospital bed, exposing a broad, muscled back. She levitated the syringe, its trajectory anything but steady as she fought rage.

“At least let me spell your pain away,” she said miserably.

“And let them punish you more?” Tripp sounded anything but accommodating. “Just make it quick, princess.”

Giving up on levitation, Lily caught the syringe and decided on the manual procedure. Her fingers trembled as she ran them down Tripp’s spine, counting each bump until she reached the proper one. She uncapped the needle and ignored how much she hated the unnatural metallic liquid she was about to inject into someone she considered family.

“Get it over with.” He snapped, making it harder for her to focus.

“Stop bossing me around,” Lily said without heat. Her mind scrambled for a way to get her Tripp back. Admittedly, he'd always been bossy, steering her toward the small tasks she could do around the home that would make her mother not punish her. Tripp had always hated seeing her punished, and often helped with the mundane things: the dishes, the bathroom, the groceries, the bills, and finally the crocheting they'd done for her mother's small quilting business.

It was a ridiculous thought—this behemoth of a man helping her sew a stitch—but it was true. "Tripp," she said shakily.

"Yes?"

"Do you remember that time you tried to do the lettering on Mrs. Fetterman's Christmas sweater?"

He let out a startled chuckle that was strained. "Yeah, I remember—”

Lily stabbed the needle in.

Chapter 2

Tripp POV

Tripp stifled his shout into the shitty hospital mattress when Lily pierced his spine with the needle. His teeth dug into nasty foam as he locked his muscles into place with learned discipline.

It hurt like a bitch, but pain was something that had become his everyday ever since the Mage Corps had chosen him as one of their guinea pigs. The spinal tap had nothing on the surgery. Nothing.

But he wasn’t ready for the emotional turmoil when Lily cried, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," and threw her delicate little body across his back in a hug.

His body went hot at the contact, unsure whether it wanted to hurt… or to have her. And that scared the hell out of him. "Get back," he said, "off me."

Rejecting her felt like kicking a puppy, and every inch of him mourned her loss when she let go of him and took a few steps back. Tripp could smell her fear, her guilt, and the tiniest whisper of arousal. It was the perfect concoction to make whatever monster was inside of him want to leap up from the bed and hunt her. He fought it and kept it at bay.

Never. he told it. You will never hurt her.

Tripp breathed into his pillow for a few beats and won the fight that he was sure would come back to haunt him later. Only then did he lift his head to look at the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen—Evan’s little sister, the little witch who'd gotten away. He'd dreamed of seeing her again, of never letting go when she was stupid enough to prance back into his life, but he never imagined it'd be here, in this hell.

And how did he greet her as soon as he saw her? He ripped her flesh apart with his hands.

Lily was clutching at her bloodied arm, her dark brown eyes wide and innocent as she looked at him. How she could look innocent after the hellish home life she'd grown up in, he had no clue.

"You should heal that," he told her, not liking how unsteady he sounded.

Lily shook her head. "It'll make the doctor happy if he sees me bleed," she told him. "I'll do it later."

Hot rage filled Tripp at the reminder that Lily was being mistreated in this hell of a place too.

"I have to go soon," she told him. "Everyone's waiting to see if I make it out alive, and I don't want someone to change their mind and to come rushing in and…" she trailed off awkwardly, still not looking at him.

Tripp couldn't stand the tension in the air, the idea that she could be afraid of him. He took a few strides, took her head in his hands. "Look at me, Lily. I just didn't want to hurt you." Everything in him cracked when she closed her eyes and leaned her cheek further into him. "I'm going to need you to play the part," he reminded her. "I'm doomed; you're not."

Lily's eyes snapped open, but she shook her head fervently. "I have lines too, you know, and I draw a line here. You're a good man, Tripp, and even a bad man doesn't deserve this." Her voice broke.

"I've killed men," Tripp told her truthfully. "Killed that bastard who was beating my mom not long after you left for the academy, and then another lowlife as soon as I was given the chance to. And I would do nothing different. By the law, I belong here. Get out of here before they realize we know each other. They’ll use me to control you, you know.”

Lily reeled back as if horrified by the idea, and then she was gone, fleeing the room and allowing a bit of horrible hospital light in. Then the door shut.

Tripp was alone again. His freakish ears allowed him to hear the witches express their delight in Lily’s survival, and then that awful, elderly doctor came and expressed his disappointment in her. Tripp memorized the nasally timbre of the bastard’s voice as the collar around his neck whirred to life. Then the zap came.

Electricity made Tripp’s body writhe and his mouth foam. The elite witches came storming in, restraining him as they should’ve when they sent Lily to him like a sheep to slaughter.

Tripp swore he’d make them all pay.