The heavy iron door of the North Tower did not just open; it exploded inward, the metal hinges shrieking in protest as they were violently tested against the stone frame.

Valeriana did not flinch. She sat at her mahogany desk, her posture perfectly straight, a quill poi

The heavy oak doors of the Bloodwood Pack’s war room swung open with a dramatic, echoing thud.

Valeriana Cross did not look up from the meticulously rolled parchment she was tying with a black leather cord. She stood at the far end of the great mahogany table, methodi

The dull, rhythmic burning beneath Valeriana’s collarbone was the first thing she felt when she woke.

She stood before the mirror in the austere bathroom of the North Tower, her fingers brushing lightly against the raised, angry red skin. The rune of the Bond-Severi