MAVERICK
Vampire. The word tore through me until it lost shape and became only pain. Demi was a vampire. My mate was a vampire. For one stunned heartbeat, the old hatred in me tried to make that simple. Then she ran, and nothing about it was simple anymore.
The arena blurred around the echo of my own countdown. Ten. Nine. Eight. Wolves shifted. My brothers closed in. Voices rose and fell, but all I could hear was the cruelty I had dressed as mercy. I had not spared her. I had given the woman fate made mine a head start from the monster wearing my face.
My wolf did not roar for the hunt. He roared at me. Rage had always been easier than grief; it gave pain a direction and teeth. But the fire inside me died almost as quickly as it rose, leaving cold horror where Demi’s trust had been.
