Tiara moved restlessly across her bedroom floor, her bare feet silent against the cold hardwood. Every nerve in her body felt electrified with desperation and fury. Nash had crossed a line she could never forgive. Sending Zackary to the Mistwood borders with only five wolves was nothing short of a death sentence, and she knew it.
The bastard wanted Zackary dead. There was no other explanation for such a pathetic force. Five wolves against an entire pack's border patrol? It was suicide disguised as strategy.
Her chest tightened with rage. After everything she had sacrificed for Nash, after all the ways she had degraded herself to stay in his good graces, he still treated her like disposable trash. But Zackary was different. Zackary saw her as more than just a convenient body to warm his bed. With him, she felt something that resembled love, something that made her feel human again.
