Sienna leaned against the wall of the motel room that Calder had booked for the night, trying to find an ounce of energy. She needed to organize her thoughts. To find some way to make sense of the nightmare she was in. How had she gotten to this point? How was it even possible that she had become this destructive, ghostlike crone who caused others pain? The air in the room, which Calder and his men complained was too warm, seemed cold against her skin, making her bones rattle, her soul more fractured than whole. Despite the bright glow of light from the lamps, she felt lost in darkness. She knew something had to be done; there was no time for weakness. Not when Willow needed her help if she was going to survive. But Sienna was locked into this damn union with Calder, having sworn in blood to carry out her half of the bargain. At this point, taking her own life would be the best thing she could do for her sister. The promise of death wouldn’t have scared her, had she thought she would be with her baby.
