her

xury. I could

arving lungs. The practiced calm of my previous life-a life spent navigati

expanse of the formal gardens, was a tall, solitary figure. Archer. He moved with a purpose, his l

of the Fitzpatrick pack's se

He had duties far more pres

g back tonight. Not

eant Jonah

d faded down the hall, his cousin had slithered in. The same night. The same hour. A drunk wolf

rept over my skin. This house was full of enemies I

ot helpless. This time

ed a w

saw it, on the heavy mahogany desk in the corner. A letter opener. It was old, mad

palm was a small comfort. I clutched it tightly, th

. A

ld come. He always came when the

I would stick to the "nightmare" story. It was the

ting things in motion. My father was a good man, but too t

h was small and final. In my previous li

would expect to find a frightened bride. I melted into the shadows beside the h

my thumb against my lips, a nervous h

the hallway.

nd a low, muffled laugh that made

would know it in the

Fitzpa

same fear. This time, it was the steady, pounding

r, my knuckles aching from the pressur

rknob r

turn. I'd

, slurred with alcohol. "Come on, little bird. Open

hed. My entire

he cold, crystalline focus of a woman who had

p. T

e bitch! Open the door! You think marrying my cousin makes you some kind of queen? You

me. This was how it started last time. His drunken v

in. Nev

e. A grunt of effort. Then a s

of metal meant for forcing open doors. The old lock, elegant but no

in, a foul cloud of whiskey and smug entitlement precedin

he room, not yet seeing me in the shadows by the