~ Author ~

Pain pulls Adeline back into herself.

It isn’t acute. It’s dull, heavy, like her body is shrouded in mist, and each sensation must battle through layers of cotton and warmth. The ground she rests on is cold and wet, pressing jaggededly into the middle of her back. Leaves rasp at her skin when she tries to shift, and the air is heavy with the metallic tang of pine and something else, something dark: fear, or blood.

She takes a shallow breath.

“Adeline!” Henry calls, his ...