Time flies when you're reading things of interest. One day you're a seventeen-year-old orphan, the next you're a seventeen-year-old princess, and then it's the night before your eighteenth birthday and the world suddenly becomes less... singular.
My cannons had stopped developing since the shifters were all killed. Rose can still move things with her mind but she hasn't been able to astral project and Molly rarely talks anymore. Things have been slow. This morning I was awakened with a roaring headache. My eyes are bloodshot and I feel heavy. I haven't been able to keep anything down all day. I feel like hell. I didn't feel like this last night.
"We have to take you outside," Young announced. I looked up at him.
"Why?"
"To give the aftershock from your ascension
