but I didn't care. My ears roared with a sound far more terrifying than Martha's shrill scolding:

s e

winter solstice, months after this random October afternoon. But history wasn't a rigid track; it was a fragile glass spiderweb

e with frantic energy, frantically smoothing her apron and patting down h

find yourselves scrubbing the

ds freezing over her washboard as she cast a nervous glance toward the double doors. "He usuall

approaching cavalry grew louder. "Just keep your head down and stay ou

re A

om now, that same title would be etched onto the gallows where he stood wa

ow of the laundry shed's wooden overhang. If I stayed small, if I stayed invisible, maybe his eyes would sl

rough-hewn pine slats,

n the pale autumn sun, bearing the silver crescent insignia of the c

a Ro

black stallion with an effortless, lethal grace, his posture straight and commanding. His hair was the color of a midnight storm, blowing slightly across a sharp,

ed pine, frost, and the dark, intoxicating authorit

ed deep within my chest. It didn't whimper in fear. Instead, it gave a violent, wa

here.

ine, completely unaware of the terror gripping my chest. "I heard Alpha Ronan single-handedly crushed a rog

gging into the edge of the wash table unti

heel catching against the edge of a wo

at

ed silence of the courtyard where everyone had froz

the process

eir hands dropping instinctively to the hilts of their silver-plated swords, th

olor as she cast a terrified look toward the doorway. "If one of those guards

Ro

s head snapped toward the laundry shed with the terrify

rough the wooden slats, cutting through t

hitched. A profound, unreadable flash of shock so deep and heavy it bordered on agony crossed his

stopped

lectric, vibrating with a strange, magnetic pull

ot yet. He shouldn't be able to smell me throug

with a heavy, deliberate sound, never breaking eye contact with me