Chrysabelle knew that was what Mal had wanted to tell her. The very idea both elated her and made her want to shove her sacre through him. Not anywhere fatal, just someplace it would leave a mark. Why would he want to tell her such a thing like that at a time like this? She was about to have molt...
A shifter. Gah. They were such lowly beings, meant to be servants or watchdogs. Couldn’t he have found a fringe? At least they were still vampire. She sighed. The girl would have to do. Tatiana didn’t want to waste time sending Nasir back to the club Octavian had found. ‘How long before the silve...
Searing heat snarled through the leather and bit his palm, snuffing the voices out like wet fingers on a wick. He released the blade, flexing his stinging hand. Since he’d woken, the voices had pounded his skull. The hunger whipped them into a frenzy. But so did being near Chrysabelle. And lately...