جميع فصول : الفصل

I'd rather die.The thought pounds through my skull as another wave of nausea threatens to rise from my stomach. I swallow it back down with a grimace.I'd rather have my throat ripped open on a battlefield, feel claws tearing through my flesh, have my father drive a silver sword through my heart.AnythingAnything but this.My stomach still twists, a hollow, clenching fist even though there's nothing left inside. My body feels like a brittle shell, exhausted after three straight days of heaving over a toilet until tears streamed down my face. Every muscle aches with a deep, bone-weary sickness that has nothing to do with injury and everything to do with this… this weakness.How do women survive this? How does Ravelle survive this and still have enough strength to glare at me like she wants to set me on fire? I don't understand it. I don't want to understand it.For one brief, pathetic, humiliating moment back there, I'd been willing. I'd accepted she'd get the key, get her wolf back,