Ellie begging me to stop.

It’s that vision that has me careening for the Other.

I grab it by the maw. There’s a sickening crack as I rip the top half of its jaw from its hinges. Ellie lets out an agonized shriek as the fangs are torn from her body. The Other slumps to the ground next to Ellie, the top half of its head oozing venom and blood from where I still grasp it in my ichor-stained hand.

I only faintly hear it thud to the ground.

Amity’s now out from underneath Ellie, whose body has gone limp. She must have passed out from the pain. Amity stares at me. It’s only for a moment, but it only takes a moment of witnessing the utmost disappointment in a child’s eyes for it to be branded into my memory forever.

“Amity, I—”

“We need to get Ellie out of here,” Amity says, nodding toward our friend.

I nod in agreement, going for Ellie’s underarms so I can lift her and drag her away.

“Behind you!” Amity calls, and I have to drop Ellie back into the grass to swing my body around. I turn just in time to catch a set of teeth sinking into my forearm. A cry of pain rips from my throat, but now that the Other has its jaws sunk into my arm, I use my other forearm to brace the top of its neck.

Then I take the arm onto which it’s latched, and force it upward.

The Other’s neck snaps in two, the crunch of its vertebrae reverberating through my skin.

Its grip doesn’t slacken in death, so I have to pry its jaw open.

The pain slicing through my arm is dizzying, but at least I don’t feel the effects of the venom. My vampirism must shield me from it.

Venom.

Ellie’s gash contains venom.

That’s why she’s gone limp.

I don’t have time to examine her, though, not when three more beasts cut away from the swarm, stalking us with silent padded paws as the grass waves whimsically around them.

“Amity, stay behind me,” I hiss through my teeth.

The first beast lunges. I duck underneath its lithe body and thrust my hand through its neck. When I return my hand to my side, the beast’s larynx comes with it.

Its body falls in a silvery heap, but the next two beasts are cleverer.

When they attack me, they do it together.

The first, I’m able to grab ahold of its throat, but at the same moment its companion barrels into my side, knocking the wind from my lungs.

My back hits the ground, the second beast rearing up in front of me. It swipes at me with its paw, but I grab onto it and twist. The beast lets out a shriek. Unable to support its weight, it comes falling atop me.

As soon as it gets close enough, I sink my fangs into the fleshy portion of its neck and shred its throat with my teeth.

Ichor sprays into my mouth, coating my tongue like bile. I spit out the mass of cartilage, shoving the weight of the creature’s carcass off of me.

The last of the group whimpers before fleeing.

I allow myself a single glance at the battlefield.

Evander has gained some ground. Vines burst from the soil, tangling the feet of several of the Others, but Evander’s face is strained with concentration. He has to keep producing the vines as the Others hack through them with their teeth and claws.

My heart aches to help him, but for now, Ellie’s the one in the most danger, so I tear my gaze away from Andy and turn back to my friend.

Amity has her outer tunic wadded up. She’s pressing it into Ellie’s wound.

Sweat beads on Ellie’s forehead, and her breathing has become labored.

Labor.

No. No, no, no, no.

I watch in horror as Ellie’s slender fingers creep toward her swollen belly.

It’s like she’s having to fight just to move her hand.

The Others’ bite contains paralytic venom.

I try not to imagine what that will do to Ellie’s baby.

No, no, no, no, no.

“We need to get her to safety,” says a strained voice. Marcus. He’s backed his way to the three of us, firing arrows at the Others approaching. “I’ll cover you while you move her. Amity, help Blaise get Ellie to safety, okay?”

Amity turns to me. “I can keep pressure applied to the wound if you can carry her.”

I nod and make to lift Ellie, but Ellie grits her teeth and shakes her head. “No. No, save the baby.”

Amity and I exchange concerned looks.

“We have to get you to safety first. The baby needs you living to survive,” I explain.

Tears soak Ellie’s warm brown cheeks. Moonlight reflects in her pupils. “I think…I think my baby is already coming.”

I look toward Amity, hoping the little encyclopedia of medicine will have an argument for why that’s not the case. But Amity only looks up at me with those big brown eyes of hers and nods.

Fates, no. No, no, no, no.

It’s too early, much too early in Ellie’s pregnancy. Even in her delirium, Ellie must realize too, because she lets out a strangled sob.

“Is there a way to stop the labor?” she asks, practically begs. “Please, please. Please make it stop.”

It takes me a moment to realize Ellie isn’t talking to us.

She’s talking to the Fates.