“That’s fine, but do I get to choose how I go out? I hope you don’t have something boring planned.” I griped, rolling my eyes. “Really, a bullet to the head or a blade to the chest is so…so plain. A death like mine should be poetic, don’t you think?” He closed the distance between us, stomping acro
Lilac’s P.O.V. He spun on his heel, clobbering up the rickety steps. The door at the top slammed behind him. Past the throbbing in my head I could hear the tell-tale click of locks snapping into place. There had to be at least five of them, which felt a bit like overkill all things considered. I w
Heavy footsteps thudded overhead, pounding so hard that a trickle of sawdust rained down over Jada. It passed through her corporeal body, forming a small pile on the floor. “I’ll do my best.” Jada’s form flickered again, and this time around when her lips moved, I was only able to hear every other
Even better, I could now feel my wolf hovering at the edges of my mind. “Where is he?” I bit out. Jada pinched her glossy lips together and frowned. “I understand you’re pissed, but if we’re going to talk about everything, I’m going to need you to take a deep breath and calm yourself. You can con
Lilac’s P.O.V. Hakeem lowered himself into the seat beside me, a plate situated on his own lap. Nox’s eyes flickered from Hakeem’s face to my own, but I was too busy stuffing a buttered roll into my mouth to care “It’s alright. Not some of your best, though.” Jada teased her brother in between bit
It was pure insanity. Ancient prophecies, secret societies. It all sounded like a bunch of people with too much time on their hands. I wanted to laugh, but the look of sheer desperation on her face gave me pause. I drew my legs in tighter, watching Jada closely. There was something I was missing.
Even though there was no magic woven within Nox’s voice, I felt compelled to look his way. He was massive in comparison to the old recliner he sat in, his broad shoulders hunched and a shadow lingering in his downcast stare. I squashed the sympathy that arose and forced myself to observe. He looked
Lilac’s P.O.V. “A peace offering.” He said, holding it out. On top was the brisket Hakeem had made, along with mashed potatoes smothered in thick gravy, topped with a buttered roll whose fragrant steam wafted my way. I didn’t hesitate to narrow my eyes at him. He was working at an angle. Why else