LUCAI rode home in silence.The werewolf driver father must have sent the second he heard the tragic and equally horrible news didn’t speak. He didn’t ask questions either. That was good because I didn’t have answers. My hands were shaking, and I couldn’t make them stop. I pressed them flat against my thighs and watched the streetlights blur past the window.Something was wrong.I could feel it in my bones. In my chest. In the way, my heartbeat felt too fast and too slow at the same time. The air tasted different. Sharper. Like I could pick apart every scent in it if I tried hard enough. The leather seats. The driver’s cologne. The exhaust from the car ahead. Everything was too loud and all too present.Was this an after effect of what happened to me? I had… I had died after all.My neck didn’t hurt anymore, though. I ignored everything else and focused on that. I touched it again, pressing my fingers against the skin. Conrad had snapped it. I remembered the sound. The way everything
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