The pristine childhood memory that had just leaked from the mate-bond—the white lace stockings, the old Broadway car, the pure history they all shared—delivered the most brutal blow to my solitary form standing by the window. With that stupid towel wrapped around my head and the blackhead pore strip stuck on my nose, I felt like an utter outsider in the face of that flawless family portrait.
A pathetic imitation of a Queen, yanked straight from the human realm.
Violet was right. They were the past. They were the first love. They were the unshakable alliance of five young wolf pups.
And I was merely the dangerous, corrupting force that had shattered their world.
