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Max waited until Gabriel was seated then moved back onto the highway.There were several tapes. He swiped at a tear. “Its why she cant stand to have mirrors around. He pulled up in front of a two-story frame house. “I destroyed all of it so she never had to see it again, and if God is merciful, shell never remember it either.” What do you mean? I cringed as the door was flung open. Each time hed entered, Id gone through a new hell. My stomach somersaulted as he pushed the metal stretcher in front of him. This is why you should never make me angry, love. I do such horrible things when you make me angry. Jeren scrambled across the chamber to where the wolf cub nudged at Shan. How he had found his way into River Holt, let alone down there, she couldnt guess. But shed learned never to underestimate a wolf. Ah, but fear was a much stronger master than shame, especially here, where they knew fear intimately, where they had felt its claws and teeth in the shadows. Youre going to kill him. The attack came with such fury it drove Jeren back towards the higher rocks, past the camp to the canyon mouth. The Sect Mother sorely outmatched her. Blood already slicked Jerens arm, threatening her grip. She kissed him into silence and Shan—her beloved, stoic, determined Shan—let her. But he didnt kiss her in return. That was unmistakeable. Anger worked both ways. One day you will understand. She nodded, and to her surprise the knot inside her eased a little. There was so much she needed to tell him, to explain, to say sorry for. You need anything, Gabe, anything at all, let me know. With Gilliad, with the Holtlands for pulling her back, with her ancestors for stealing magic to begin with and letting her end up in this nightmarish position. They scrambled down the hillside, out to the road below. And found more Fellna there, hoards of them. They came from the shadows, swirling around him, ready to swarm. Come on, Samara roared. The bed declined to yield. I didnt bother answering. Talk had never solved anything. Rivers should know that. Hed wasted six months of my life talking. I kept my eyes straight forward as I left the building. My fathers passing wasn’t a shock. The stroke he’d suffered after finding me hanging from a tree in the apple orchard had drained the life out of him a little more each day. His death would be written up as natural causes by everyone but me. Somewhere, hopefully in hell, Christian Salyer had just carved another notch in his bedpost. Published by R. F. Long 2019.