Hazel stood frozen by the side of the twin cribs, her fingers still clenched tightly against the fabric of her simple nanny uniform. Her chest rose and fell in short, ragged gasps. For ten long, agonizing years, hatred had been her fuel. It had kept her warm in the freezing mountain caves.
It had given her the strength to alter her features, to suppress her natural magic, and to infiltrate the very heart of the enemy territory under the false name of Selah. She had come to this fortress with a single, unyielding goal: to burn the Blood-Moon pack house to the ground and watch its master choke on the ashes.
But a few seconds ago, Duncan had shattered the foundation of that hatred with a single sentence.
“I burned those witches to save my people.”
And worse, he had shown her his back. Th
