Gianna Romano slapped me in front of three hundred wolves.
The sound cracked across the courtyard like a gunshot—sharp, sudden, final. My head snapped sideways. My cheek burned. And for one perfect, frozen moment, every wolf in the compound stopped breathing.
I didn't fall.
I don't know how. My body wanted to crumble, wanted to curl into itself and disappear. But something held me upright—some stubborn piece of myself that refused to give her the satisfaction. I turned my head back slowly, feeling the sting spread across my face like fire, and met her eyes.
"That," Gianna said, her voice carrying across the silent courtyard, "is for touching what was promised to me."
Behind me, I heard Brian roar.
The sound wasn't human. It was something ancient and terrible, a noise that made my bon
