Benedict

Why couldn’t my mother just listen and leave it alone? Why couldn’t she just stop? Why did she force my hand? I don’t know the answers to those questions, but I will tomorrow.

“Less than eight fucking hours,” I murmur against Sloane’s neck. Marrok was ready to tear Jennete, my mother’s wolf, to shreds for her insubordination and insolence. Of course, he was already out for blood because Elena threw herself into my arms, trying to make it look like there was something ...