"Maybe a bottle of whiskey can help?" Cyan suggests like a devil in my head.
Tempting, but I don't give in. I've made up my mind to combat my mother and Zara, take back my seat in the pack and find my true mate to make things right.
To do that, I have to be sober and clear thinking, not the drunk that I wound up being. My body has recovered from the poisoning that my mother fed me with, but not entirely.
I'm still lacking flesh and muscle, but who cares about that now? My position has been usurped. The last thing I need to care about is my preening.
I’m wandering through the woods near town, seeking the elusive peace of solitude, but finding only the stupid temptation and agitation of Cyan.
He’s been a storm inside me for months now, a tempest of frustration and longing. Ever since T
