Betrayer's Mark

The sanctum's air turned thick and sour as Mira's words sank in, her hands still pressing my swollen belly like she owned the pain twisting inside me. The false swell throbbed, a cruel joke from the goddess, or worse, from someone in the pack. Drake's arm wrapped tight around my waist, his body a solid wall against the chill seeping from the stones. Outside, Thorne's shouts grew louder, boots crunching leaves, the warriors' growls echoing like thunder rolling in. My heart ...