Her teeth flashed in a predatory smile. “We need a royal body to stick onto that throne and keep our own masters in charge of Corvenne for as long as possible. So, let’s hunt down our next glorious king or queen and get them to the Hall of Investiture whether they like it or not!”

Oh, no, you don’t! Cordelia twisted in midair and shot back through the trees.

Giles and Rosalind had already wandered too far from the safety of the den—and they weren’t even trying to be quiet. She could hear them from yards away, stomping and spitting out experiments.

“Ugh! Leave that one for the—ow!” Rosalind jerked back as Cordelia zoomed toward her and began to tug on Rosalind’s short hair with her beak. “Stupid bird! I don’t want to steal your food, I—”

“Cordy?” Giles spun around, eyes sharp.

She couldn’t bear to shift. Humans were too slow! She danced with impatience in the air as she circled them, trying to herd them away.

“Something’s wrong,” Giles said.

Finally! They understood.

Rosalind grabbed for her sword-stick and planted her feet wide apart in defense position.

“Argh!” Cordelia let out a muffled shriek of frustration as she landed on two human feet in front of her stupid, stubborn sister. “Go, go, go! Don’t stay and fight!”

That bear-man was twice Rosalind’s height, at least. And that hard, focused look in the wolf-woman’s eyes …

“Where?” Giles looked around, eyes wide. “The den?”

“Too far!” They would never get there in time.

If only her triplets could shift bodies, too! She would have given anything to fly away with them now. Instead, she pointed desperately toward the east. “There’s a fallen oak that tumbled down in the last storm. Go hide under its leaves. Now.”

Rosalind’s eyes blazed. “I’m not afraid of any—”

“Protect Giles!” Cordelia hissed.

Giles’s jaw dropped open in outrage. “What?”

“You can write a song about it,” she promised. “Later.”

She couldn’t wait any longer. She dropped into wolf form and ran from her triplets, straight in the direction of the knights creeping toward them.

They were still out of sight, but they weren’t out of scent. In wolf form, she could smell the fear and aggravation that pulsed off them in waves—and the determination, too. A mere howl in the distance wouldn’t frighten these predators away.

The fur on her back rose. Her upper lip lifted in a snarl.

She was a predator now, too. They were coming for her pack.

The wolf knew exactly what to do.

Her world was made of infinite shades of gray and instinct like a guiding star. Her paws left no imprint on the ground as she sped unerringly through the trees toward her prey.

Closer, closer—

There.

Just ahead. Two humans, stopping to confer.