Bonesplinter Ravine [M] ‘Cause Anything’s Better than the Way I Feel Right Now

Machiavelli’s throat tightened, his fur bristling with unease. His eyes locked on the flower spinning in Herod’s paw, the ruby petals blurring as they moved. Herod.

Where is she? What did you do to her? Machiavelli demanded, his voice edged with desperation, pale-pink nails digging into the cold stone beneath him as though the ground itself might give way.