Violet CLAW
He clearly regretted letting his prize slip away before he’d fully broken it.
"The past is a different country, Blake," I said, my voice like dry ice. "Tastes evolve. Just look at yours."
The jab hit home. Everyone in the pack knew his current flame, Talia Brooks, was a sharp-edged downgrade from a Mercer. Blake had been drowning his ego in whiskey lately, haunted by the whispers that he’d traded a diamond for a shard of glass.
"Ivy, maybe you haven't heard," Blake said, trying to regain the lead. "Talia had a... complication. The pregnancy is over."
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