The farmhouse was quiet except for the occasional creak of old wood settling in the night. I sat on the edge of the massive bed, watching Seraphine sleep. Her silver eyes were closed now, lashes casting faint shadows on her pale cheeks. The wounds Jax and his men had given her still marked her skin, ugly purple bruises across her ribs, a jagged cut along her left arm, and the deep gash on her side that had finally stopped bleeding thanks to the herbal salve I’d applied.
My wolf paced restlessly inside me, demanding I hunt down every last threat. But right now, she needed me here more than she needed vengeance. I brushed a damp cloth gently over her forehead, cleaning away the last traces of dirt and dried blood from the cage. She had been so fierce even while chained, silver eyes burning
