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Malgrave.

“It’s active,” she says. “I can feel the pull from here. Whatever Malgrave’s doing, he’s doing it now.”

My hellhound slams against the inside of my skin, hard enough to rock me forward. I lock my jaw and stare at the cavern buried in that fucking hillside.

Malgrave is in there.

Somewhere beyond those walls are the pieces of me he’s been stealing. Somewhere inside is the connection he’s using to drag them straight into Hell. And I’m standing out here trying to hold onto the last scraps of control I have left.

Another hit from the hellhound nearly takes my breath. Heat floods my veins. My fingers twitch at my sides as claws threaten beneath the nails.

He wants out.

Not because he’s lost control.

But because he knows exactly what’s waiting for us in there.

My eyes slide to Echo. She’s watching me, pale green eyes moving over my face before dropping to my hands.

She sees the claws.

Sees the fire starting to glow beneath my skin, and she doesn’t back away.

Something inside my chest loosens. All my life, somebody has wanted the hellhound chained. Hell wanted him obedient. Everyone else wanted him controlled. Even I learned to keep one hand wrapped around his throat because letting him loose usually meant somebody was about to bleed.

Not tonight.

Tonight, I need every vicious fucking piece of him.

I look toward Raze, and he takes one look at me and knows.

His chin lifts slightly—do it.

My hellhound hits me again.

This time, I don’t fight him.

All right, asshole.

I step away from Echo, roll my shoulders once, and plant my boots in the dirt.

You want out?

Hellfire surges through me so hard my vision flashes red, and my mouth pulls back into a grin.

Let’s fucking go.

Pain detonates through me. My spine bows as the first crack tears up my back, followed by another, then another, each one louder than the last. My shoulders wrench wide. Bones snap and reset beneath my skin while muscle packs on faster than my body has room to hold it, ripping a sound from my chest that should be a roar.

Nothing comes out.

That silence fucking burns.

But the hellhound doesn’t care.

He’s free.

My hands hit the dirt as claws punch from my fingertips, fingers stretching, thickening, becoming paws while my jaw breaks forward with a sickening crack. Teeth sharpen against my tongue. Black and purple fur tears across my arms and shoulders as heat blasts from somewhere deep inside me, hellfire splitting through in glowing seams along my ribs, my spine, down the massive length of my flanks.