To be werewolf is to claim power—if you're male.

Females are expected to be breeders. They're also rare and therefore highly sought after.

But none are as coveted as the Lost Princess of Howling Sky.

With her tremendous moonlight, she will end the Prime War by becoming the mother of an unstoppable generation.

Werewolves will rise. Vampires and humans will fall.

"Let me go," I warned in a low voice, "or I'll tear off your balls and make you cry like a wounded dog."

I was on the verge of doing something underhanded myself: leaping forward and scratching his eyes out like a cat. But the expression on his face caused me to falter.

His eyes held me captive. They were dark like the rest of him. The shadows we were in made it hard to discern everything about him, but I swore I could see flashes of blue in his eyes like sapphire dust.

"Please don't do that," he said. He kept the volume low, but the baritone resonance of his voice made me shiver all the same. If he wanted to, I was sure he could speak with great power. Then he added, "I'm trying to get you out of here, out of Paws Peak."

My mouth dropped open.

"You do want to leave, don't you? I mean, based on the way you were running like your tail was on fire." He gave a small smile, flashing white teeth.