Command of the Wolf
I shivered at the Gothic grandeur of the song out of the mouths of the wolves, before twisting to Siobhanny, who was staring out of the window as if I was the only one who could
hear the song.
And that was Hitchcock’s Tricks for Dummies.
I squared my shoulders. “You’re not my mother, and I don’t think that you’re a ghost either. So, what are you?”
The wolves stopped singing like their throats had been slit.
Siobhanny turned back to me, fluttering her eyelashes. “I’m the essence of the House of Heights: an echo of every Wolve Winner, memory, and despicably debauched sin or virtue that has occurred here. I was created, whether you like this or not, to be the extra special ward to help you. I’m
Bab Populer