"Guards! Are you all cowards?" Sarah shrieked, her voice reaching a frantic, hysterical pitch. She snatched a ceremonial silver dagger from the wedding altar. Her white dress was stained with the wine of her broken glass, making her look like a blood-splattered ghost. "She’s using witchcraft! She’s a monster! Kill her!"
The guards shifted uncomfortably. Their eyes darted between Sarah and the Shadow King standing by the door. No one moved. They could feel the power radiating off me—a heat that made their own wolves want to curl up and hide.
"I said kill her!" Sarah rushed at me herself, the silver blade raised high. She had always been the 'perfect' one, the sister with the pure-white wolf. But as she swung the blade, I caught her wrist.
The heat from my mark flared. Sarah’s silk sleeve
