Page 156 of Ravenous

Fate had a diabolical sense of humor.

Meera would feel the scorch of her release forever, because with oneinterrupted connection, Lowell had ruined her for other males. Even as grief wrapped around her like a shroud, her body still hummed for him. Always would.

She’d thought he loved her. Thought they were making love. She’dbelieved. Instead of making love, they’d fucked, and it’d been so lackluster in his mind,he hadn’t even finished.

The male she loved had recoiled from her like poison.

Her heart shattered into pieces so brittle she could never repair them.

She folded to her knees, hands trembling against her face as sobs shook her ribs. A wail bubbled up from her throat and died on the cold air.

Hope died with it.

In its place, something dark took shape, pain souring into a venomous bloom that wanted to consume every flicker of light.

But not her palms. Their glow reached even past her squeezed tight eyelids. She blinked them open to find her hands boiling with brightness, her power manifesting as never seen. She felt it spilling out into the Skein, infecting the night even more than before, stoking the fury of others.

War would follow.

Good.

Her despair had twisted into hatred, and in that hatred, she found clarity. Earlier she’d wondered how she could live without Lowell. She’d wondered what could buoy her. Now she knew.

These beautiful infuriations.

Her mother had warned that either Meera would control her power, or it would control her.

Correct.

She’d taught Meera to fear wrath without reason. No more. Because Meera had nothing left to lose.

Let the Skein tear itself apart. Let old resentments ignite. Let the land burn clean of broken dreams.

She rose as if emerging from a chrysalis with a vow upon her lips: “I promise myself to the coming war against the Lykae.” She would train. She would unravel wolves from the inside out. She would confess everything to the high priestess—about Lowell, Rosewyn, her own mistakes—and beg for Ditch’s mercy. Then she would earn the right to wield her wrath on those that deserved it.

And her compact with Hecate—I will never bear my own babes…if I can have the male I love—would be honored. He’d only been in Meera’s grasp for a brief moment, but she had indeedhadhim.

The covenant had been bound; she would bear no children.

Instead she would guide and tend to her infuriations, becoming Meera the Wrath Mother.

My story, she realized,is the origin story of a very wicked witch.

Footsteps neared the Mount.

She stood in the moonlight, naked, her orgasm dried on her inner thighs. No matter. Meek Meera was gone. In her place rose a voluptuous enchantress with no reason to fear anything. She lifted her blazing palms and dared this interloper to say

one

wrong

word.

Anyone who tried to intimidate her ever again would pay the price.I will smite them, mothering their wrath against themselves.

Into the clearing burst Thane—full beast—carrying Ditch in his arms.

Meera’s jaw dropped. He was hauling her toward the portal to the mortal world!