No one has spoken so much as two words since Aaron left. Violet is filing her nails on the edge of her knife, looking annoyed, but by what I can’t tell. Leo is—pretending to be—asleep. Marco is pacing angrily, grunting every so often, and Lillian is trying to softly calm him down. It’s no secret that she’s been in love with him since the beginning of the trip, and now that Nadia’s gone she sees her chance to wiggle in. Her efforts, however, are shrugged off by Marco, of course.

We’re all so absorbed into our own little worlds that it makes all of us jump when we hear a sudden crashing through the trees. I leap up, gripping my knife through its holster. The power of wielding it makes me scared, yet I’m ready to defend.

But there’s no need for that, because it’s only Aaron who emerges from the woods, wearing a look of pure hatred and a battered, bloody shirt, dagger in hand. The blade is streaked with dripping blood. It’s a new look for him, but in my opinion, he looks so badass that he’s never been sexier.

“Aaron!” Shrieks Violet. “What the hell happened to you?!”

He’s panting, with his hands on his knees, sweat dripping from his hair. He shakes his head, vaguely, but surely.

I stride over to him and finger a lock of his dark hair. “Aaron, what happened?”

He swallows, but doesn’t shy away from my touch. “Wolves.”

I hear Lillian whimper, and Leo draws a sharp breath. Wolves? Since when are there wolves in these areas? And how could they have survived the ash storm?

“Are you sure?” I ask Aaron. “I don’t know how there could be—”

“Trust me,” he growls, “they were wolves.” He stands up, staggering over to a stray log stump. He slowly sits down, grunting in pain. “And they weren’t normal wolves, either. These… these were demonic. No skin, just a huge structure of black bone.” He shakes his head. “The dagger wouldn’t cut clean through the bone. And when it finally did… it just evaporated. The whole thing. Into thin air. The dust, it just poof. Disappeared.”