He’s the kind of wrong that ruins you for anyone else.
I talk to the dead for a living, which means my social life is exactly what you’d expect—completely flatlined.
But when a black envelope appears on my desk with an invitation to the All Hallows’ Eve Ball, the spirits whisper warnings in my ear. Stay away.
I should have listened.
Instead, I’m at a fae party where something goes terribly, violently wrong. My connection to the dead vanishes, replaced by something wild and hungry clawing beneath my skin. Something that makes me want to run, to hunt, to tear things apart with hands...
He’s the kind of wrong that ruins you for anyone else.
I talk to the dead for a living, which means my social life is exactly what you’d expect—completely flatlined.
But when a black envelope appears on my desk with an invitation to the All Hallows’ Eve Ball, the spirits whisper warnings in my ear. Stay away.
I should have listened.
Instead, I’m at a fae party where something goes terribly, violently wrong. My connection to the dead vanishes, replaced by something wild and hungry clawing beneath my skin. Something that makes me want to run, to hunt, to tear things apart with hands that suddenly have claws.
Then I meet him.
Dark, dangerous, and looking at me like I’m prey. Every instinct screams to flee, but when he follows me into the woods, when he catches me I’m the one who pounces. Who can’t stop inhaling his scent. Who wants to sink my teeth into his throat and mark him as mine.
This isn’t me. I don’t lose control. I don’t crave violence. I definitely don’t let strangers whisper dark promises about keeping me forever while their hands make me forget why I ever wanted to escape.
My magic is gone. This feral need has taken its place. And the man pinning me against a tree, teaching me to breathe through the transformation ripping me apart from the inside?
He might be my salvation.
Or he might be the darkness the ghosts tried to warn me about.
Either way, I’m already lost.
Some hungers, once awakened, can never be satisfied.
