It's been six months since I got rejected by my mate; six months since my sister betrayed me and stood in that crowd, watching him, Damon, crown her his Luna.

Six months since the cloaked stranger in the shadows eluded me, like smoke, yet it wasn't Damon's face that haunted me most, nor the way he gently secured his hands on her tummy. The way he pressed his lips to her hair, as if she were the only woman in the world.

Not even the swelling curve of her belly under her dress, proof of the ...