Betty POV
"Wake up, Betty," a voice hisses.
The sound scrapes against the inside of my skull. It does not belong to me.
"Get out of my head," I spit.
I slam my hands against my temples. My palms hit slick, cold stone. I am not in the forest anymore. The damp scent of pine and crushed grass is entirely gone, replaced by the suffocating stench of burnt copper and old dust.
"You think you have a choice?" the voice mockingly laughs.
Novalee.
The dead witch is a parasitic itch under my skin. The memory pool she forced me into still burns behind my eyes. I saw it all. I saw the way the mate bond forced her into the Lycan King’s bed. I saw her belly swell with his child. I saw the exact moment her obsession with revenge turned her into a monster.
She slaughtered her own bloodline. She rip
