Penny smiled.
Slowly.
Viciously.
And there was my sister.
The one who had killed Cinderella herself and apparently kept the glass slipper around just in case she needed to stab someone with it.
“You wanted a Golden Wolf so f*****g badly,” I said, my voice carrying through the trees. “Now you got two.”
Penny lifted her hands.
Gold sparked between her fingers.
Wilder. Sharper. Less sun and more storm. Itaca’s power flowed into the air like molten lightning, twisting into tendrils that reached for Kyan with a patience that made my pulse slow down.
One wrapped around his right wrist.
Another around his left.
Two more snapped around his ankles.
Golden ropes made of electricity.
Kyan screamed in pain and I f*****g wanted to record it.
Because for one perfect second, he understood.
