Samantha's consciousness exploded outward, fragmenting and reforming in rapid succession. She was herself, but also Marcus—feeling his ancient-vampire-turned-hybrid essence, the weight of nine hundred years of memories pressing against her awareness. Then Kai—wild wolf instincts, the scent-memory of pine forests and moonlight runs. Then Callum—dragon fire burning eternal, the sensation of wings she didn't have stretching toward impossible skies.
And Linda—oh, her mother's humanity burned bright and fierce, mortal determination that put immortal power to shame. The love there was staggering, uncomplicated by magic or mystery, just pure maternal devotion.
And Nova—
Nova was vast.
