HANNAH
Whatever Asher had injected into my system was strong. I fought to move, to summon even a fraction of the rage that had saved me before—the same fury that had helped me kill those men the day I was nearly kidnapped. But even the powers of the White Wolf were no match for the poison burning through my veins.
Somewhere, a clock was ticking. Each passing second dragged me closer to death. Soon, Dawson and his councilmen would be here to finish me off.
A tear slipped down my cheek. I wanted to be strong, but it was so damn hard.
Lifting my head as much as I could, I stared up at the ceiling—filthy, sagging, laced with cobwebs. I imagined it was the night sky, the Moon Goddess watching.
“Please,” I whispered into the silence. “If you made me the White Wolf for a reason, don’t let
