I stared at her, this woman I thought I knew, and realized I’d only seen the surface. She was so much deeper, so much more, an endless depth.Cora wasn’t just a fighter. She was chosen. Marked by the Moon. The prophesied savior who would bring humans and werewolves to harmony.And yet, despite every
KingstonI didn’t knock.The pull toward her was so intense that I knew she was behind the door without having to ask or check who was inside.The motel door was thin enough that I could hear the soft shuffle of feet from within, the low murmur of a television, and the sound of a child laughing. Ril
KingstonI hadn’t even realized how long I’d been driving. States blurred together, towns passed in a haze, the rhythm of tires against pavement the only sound that kept me grounded.The GPS had stopped being useful hours ago. I’d turned it off, ignoring the polite voice telling me to make U-turns o
“Are we still adventuring?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.“Yeah, buddy,” I said softly. “We’re just taking a break before the next leg. I say we get some pancakes, though, as a treat.”He smiled at that, too tired to question the ache behind my eyes. I helped him out of the car and into the diner, w
CoraShe came to me when I was taking Riley out to breakfast.The tires rumbled steadily against the road, a low lullaby beneath Riley’s soft breathing in the back seat since he had gone back to sleep. Outside, the street stretched like a ribbon into the horizon, lit only by the pale moon.The edges
I imagined Kingston finding the burned apartment. The scene I’d left behind. The wreckage. Did he think I was a killer now?Did he know—did he feel it—when the bond between us frayed but didn’t quite break?I clenched the steering wheel tighter.Kingston had given me nothing but love. He had promise