Sixteen: History Must Never Repeat Itself.

ELIANA.

“This is the part where I kill you.”

At the sound of Denver’s deep voice, there was a rumble in the skies. The air was charged with tension just as he swung across to where the other was. Blake, he’d said. That was his name.

Up until this moment, I didn’t even know Denver had a brother. Throughout my stay in Black Mountain, I didn’t see him once, and neither did I hear that name. Which could only mean that they weren’t so close. But watching them tear each other apart wasn’t even on my bingo card.

Denver had transformed in a split second, so did Blake. And as soon as the moonlight bathed across their furry skin, the ominous growls of the two wolves reverberated through the night. My eyes charged open but I didn’t leave the shed where Denver had told me to stay.

He lunged himself at Blake, slashing across his face with sharp claws. His arms clamped around his neck as Denver aimed to sink his razor-sharp fangs into his brother. But the other, a silver-furred werewolf, a darker