CHAPTER 65
He paced the room's length like a maddened animal, toppling chairs, books sailing through the air, anything his fingers could grasp. The calm mask he had worn for Fiona's sake now shed, left in favor of the urgent, maddened violence of a man who had tasted hope and had it wrested from him.
"No," he snarled softly, his words low and poisonous. "No one… no one steals this from me."
The oath formed in his mind. If they thought they could rule her future from him, if they thought they could steal from him the one path he had to power… then they had no idea what he was capable of.
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The night was strangely still, the moonlight's silver pouring over the serene fields. In the distance, the towering gates of the Silverpine Pack House towered, their shadows slinking acros
