EXCERPT FROM WICKED BLOOD:

Anna settled in front of the mirror, hands in her skirt pockets and toes curled in anticipation. Niall filled the emptiness beside her, his quiet warmth a balm as she focused on the briars of light and steel that wrapped the faintly glowing red of her heart. At first the rhythmic beat raced, then the cage flickered. She calmed.

”Maevanna,” Niall began, and she tensed at the full use of her first name and the quiet way in which he spoke it. “What is that?”

 

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