ra

on the nightstand. It hit

with a tracking spell. Dante called

finger felt naked.

rcoal sketch of a wolf on a cliff, howling at a moon that had turned away

bye,

he har

ing the golden cord in

nly death does that.

r to his mind. It hurt-like sewing my own mouth shut. With the last

tiful, terrif

d my bag

commercial j

on the private strip, was the bl

and Isabella, heading to

e parallel. He was a hundred yards away, probably sippin

roared, l

he pai

ugh my heart. I doubled over, gasping. The Rejection S

y?" a flight a

But then, a warmth

ead from my womb, wrapping arou

.* Or may

hing ancient. Not Omega su

eceded to

go shrinking into a gr

sweat from

te," I whispered to the gla