his taunting, as insignificant as Ronnie was to him. Peter was just breaking him down. Ronnie wasn’t sure what there could possibly be in his mind that was valuable enough for him to bother with, but the look of true shock on the changeling’s face told him it wasn’t what he’d expected.
“No,” Peter rasped, staggering backward. “No. That is impossible.”
Ronnie struggled to understand what he was seeing. Whatever it was, it had come from his own mind, or at least from one of the other Plague Doctors, but he couldn’t access it.
Ronnie stared at Peter in disbelief. The silence was growing louder and louder, and it felt like it was part of him now. Maybe it was him. Maybe there was nothing about him that existed outside of it. It seemed as logical as anything else, but just as he was in danger of being taken under by it, he heard something else.
It wasn’t audible, exactly. It was more of a tug; a sense of knowing. It gave him the strength to turn around, and when he saw Colt standing at the edge of the clearing, fear blossomed from the hole the silence had left in his chest.
He didn’t want to be rescued. Not if it meant putting Colt anywhere near this freak.
“Colt, run,” Ronnie pleaded.
The music returned and rose to an unbearable screech that made Ronnie collapse to his knees. Everything went black and silent for one blissful moment. True silence, not the kind that filled him with dread. When Ronnie regained consciousness and opened his eyes, Colt was closer, his machete raised as he rushed at the changeling.
Peter dodged his blow easily, and the blade sliced through the dry grass. The smaller ghoul was on his feet in an instant, and though he had no weapon in his hands, Ronnie knew intimately just what he was capable of without one.
This time, when Colt ran at Peter, he dodged and grabbed the larger ghoul’s hand, flinging him across the clearing and into a tree with impossible strength. It split open as Colt crashed through it, the machete flying from his hands.
“No,” Ronnie cried, struggling to get to his feet. His body didn’t feel like his own anymore, and time seemed to slow down around him.
Peter walked calmly toward Colt, who was still recovering from the impact. He had made the grave mistake of underestimating Peter physically, and Ronnie knew it was only the beginning.
Colt got to his feet before Ronnie was able to, snatching his machete once more. His lips curled back in a snarl that seemed to shake the forest as his handsome features contorted into something ghastly.
Ronnie watched, mesmerized, as Colt’s form grew and became the powerful, lupine body he had seen only once before. He had an elongated snout and fangs too big for his mouth, but his face wasn’t all canine. The gray fur that covered his straining muscles was thicker than before, and Ronnie could only wonder if the beast was going through its own gradual transformation.
Even like this, Colt was strangely beautiful. A grotesque kind of beauty Ronnie either couldn’t or didn’t want to look away from.
Peter seemed equally taken aback. This was the first time he was seeing Colt in his Alpha form, but Ronnie was sure he’d seen other lupines. Maybe Colt was different, after all.
For a few tense moments, the monsters circled each other, looking comedically mismatched, but Ronnie knew the truth. Despite his small stature, Peter was capable of terrible things.
Colt was the first to move, and this time, even Peter wasn’t fast enough to escape. They were both moving too quickly for Ronnie’s mind to process. All he saw was Colt’s jaws snapping down on the changeling’s arm one second and a spray of blood the next as he flung Peter across the clearing.
It was only when Peter rose, blood pouring from his empty shoulder socket, that Ronnie realized Colt had torn his arm off.
Ronnie stumbled back as the lupine stalked toward his prey. Peter was only disoriented for a moment. Dread made Ronnie’s head spin, and he lunged as Peter raised his other hand.
“No!” Ronnie cried, stumbling on a root buried in the earth before he could reach them. He hit the ground hard, cursing himself as he clawed the grass, trying to push himself upright. His head was still a jumble of frenzied thoughts and the echoes of the devil’s song playing on a loop.
He knew the moment Colt heard it. The anguished roar that soon