a P

e icy atmosphere I'd just left behind. Sunlight streamed through the large window, illumin

rushed in, her face etched with worry

s," she said, her voice a hushed whisper. "I heard

as a fragile, beautiful thing in a wor

The gaping wound in my chest was still there, but it no longe

ow," she whispered, her own story tumbling out. "The man I asked you about. My pack's Gamm

tears, I saw the reflection of my own silent suffering. The isolat

empty seat at the family table and refused to give it back. She had taken my parents. Now

led out a small, flat stone. It was a piece of obsidian, polished sm

ng it into her palm. "It will help s

said, her voice thick with emotion. "Anya, if you need a place to go... I just si

hen my own family and pack had cast me out. For the first time in

," I

ely alliance was forged

voice slamme

ng the ghost of our bond, the residual connection o

id you do? Sterling's

vanished. An icy rage, pure

e in me instantly.

s closing as I focused inward. I didn't need to spe

with scorn. A better question, Bartholomew, is what gives an Al

tent fury came back t

rents, stole my home, and now warms your bed. And you let her. You chose her over your own mate. What's th

was so used to being obeyed, to being in

ed, relentless. This pathetic little echo of a bond

realized that yes, that was exactly what he was trying to do. He could

as

ed for the sliver of moonlight that always lived within me, the core of my identity as

it down

a word. It was a feeling. A shov

t. Of.

and pain, his, and then, for th

ete, and ut

hain had b

, shuddering sigh. The headache behind my ey

oe, her face a

ce clear and steady. "I jus