SPECIAL CHAPTER: RIONA MAYCHILD

The kitchen was too quiet. I stood at the counter, scrubbing the same plate for the third time while Killian's voice echoed from the dining room. He was lecturing someone about pack politics again. Always pack politics.

My hands shook slightly. I set the plate down and gripped the edge of the sink. The ceramic was cool under my fingertips, grounding me when my magic threatened to bubble up. It had been doing that more often lately. Little sparks when Killian ...