But how could I not do something that was within my nature?
How could one witness cruelty and do nothing to stop it?
It was a reminder that I was not one of them. Praying to the same gods and eating from the same animal would never unite us. What would it take, and how far would I have to go to prove myself?
The constant battle I struggled with repeatedly triggered something within me. Rage and grief came into existence, sending hot tears sliding down my cursed face, making the sack feel like a furnace.
I continued stroking the dog’s fur, out of my head, out of my mind.
The air around me turned cold. The paper thing in my chest crumbled. The wind rustled between the branches, and vibration came from the soles of my feet and rushed to my fingertips. I felt it everywhere—a white-hot energy blasting through me.
Then the dog’s lungs expanded beneath my palm, taking a full breath.
My eyes popped open.
The dog’s tail thumped against the earth with a wag.
My breath caught in my throat, and I fell back onto my hands.
I watched as the wolfish thing lifted his head before climbing to his feet.
We locked eyes.
“You were dead,” I whispered into the night. “I am certain of it.”
He shook out his fur, perked his ears, and took off through the woods between the trees.
He disappeared as if he was never dead.
CHAPTER 4
ADORA
Weeping Hollow, Maine
November 15, 2020
Just face the wall,”Kane’s voice slithered into my ear from behind.
He placed my hands on the wall in front of me, dragged his palms down my sides, then piled the skirt of my dress on my hips.
“You know I hate it when you talk to me like that.” I turned back to look at him with daggers in my glare, only to be met with a cold, elegant man.
Kane Pruitt was understated, never trying to attract attention or impress people. For him, it just came naturally. He had thick coffee-brown hair that girls in Weeping Hollow would love to hold on to, but the only person he cared to be with was me. Only because I was his friend for fifteen years, and he refused to let his walls down for anyone else.
He flipped his tie over his shoulder and leaned over me, pressing his chest against my back as he undid his buckle. The cold metal of it grazed my backside when a whisper pushed into my ear. “We’ve been doing this for seven years, and you keep coming back. You know you love it.”
He could not have been more wrong. Heartless sex didn’t leave an imprint. It didn’t penetrate—not the heart, not the soul—no matter how deep I took it. Which meant seven years of faking countless orgasms.
The only ones I’d ever experienced were from my own doing.
Kane’s hand dipped between my thighs, fingers sliding through my sex, numbing my thoughts. “Seven years, and you’re still dry as fuck,” he deadpanned, and an annoyed sigh left him.
I squeezed my eyes and fists closed at the same time. “You literally shoved me in here when we have a meeting in less than five minutes. It’s called foreplay, Kane.” I dropped my head between my shoulders, staring at my feet. “I swear, I don’t think you know how the female body works.”
“I’ve been inside you long enough to know how your body works.” I felt Kane’s smirk graze my neck. “I need you now, A. We don’t have half an hour to get you going.”
I rolled my eyes. “It doesn’t take half an hour.”
