Savannah
The road to Silver Crest Pack territory wound through misty coastal mountains, each curve taking me further from Bloodmoon—and from Kalel's hurtful words. I stared out the passenger window as Maxine drove, watching fog curl around ancient pines like ghostly fingers.
"Your knuckles are still bruised," Maxine observed, nodding toward my hand. "Must have been one hell of a punch."
"He deserved worse," I muttered, flexing my fingers. The bruises would heal soon enough, thanks to my accelerated healing. The damage Kalel had done with his words would take longer.
Am I just collecting supernatural boyfriends? Is that all my connections mean to him?
The thought made my stomach clench. What happened with Lysander had been sacred, necessary—a union of cosmic forces to save his life and
