12
Drusilla Blackwood paced back and forth, kicking at the pine needles that covered the forest floor. What little patience she had ran out hours ago. “They should've been back by now. Incompetent fools,” she muttered. “I should have buried them deeper when I had the chance.” She smoothed the front of her ragged dress and clasped her hands behind her back. “Insolent little beasts. I will reunite them with mommy and daddy in the Shadowlands. Once the stones are mine, I will get my revenge.”
Drusilla stopped in her tracks as a whirlwind of black magic appeared in front of her. “I do not have time for Shifters,” she growled. She clenched her fists, creating two fireballs and prepared to destroy the intruder. Oxworth had made her an outcast. All Shadowshifters worked for him now, except for
