DANIKA
Kaziel wasn't in bed when I woke up this morning. And as I stand in front of the mirror staring at my reflection, a shiver runs down my spine at the thought of what might have happened if Kaziel didn't tell me what to do. Pushing my wet hair away from my face, I try not to get emotional, but it's ridiculous. The tears come anyway.
Wiping at my tears, I take hold of my phone and quickly text my mate to ask him where he is. Then I saunter out of the room because no matter how traumatized I am, food always comes first. Comfort eating should be its own supernatural power. Honestly.
My flip-flops smack lightly against the floor as I make my way down the hall, hugging my robe tighter around myself. The house feels too quiet.
When I reach the living room, I pause.
Cora's curled up on
