Grace pov
I stood in the pack house kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner with more force than strictly necessary. Each precise cut of the knife was an outlet for the rage that had been building for the past week—ever since the pack dinner where I had thought I made myself perfectly clear.
Apparently, Madison hadn't gotten the message.
Or worse, she had gotten it and simply didn't care.
"You're murdering that carrot," Jace observed from where he sat at the kitchen island, reviewing pack reports.
"The carrot deserves it," I muttered, moving on to an innocent bell pepper.
Jace set down his tablet, his expression shifting to concern. "What happened?"
"Madison happened. Again." My grip on the knife tightened. "She cornered me at the grocery store this morning. Do you want to know wha
