Chapter 75

Joseph didn’t think she was aware of tracing her fingertips over her upper stomach, but he was. He knew, suddenly, that there were scars under there. Murderous rage had everything inside him going quiet and still.  Memories of his mother ordering the pack guards to whip him flitted around in the back of his mind like poisonous shadows just because his mother found him kissing a man. Sometimes, he still felt the sting of the iron-tipped lash flaying his flesh open, still heard the crack as it split the air.

Werewolves or demons healed fast—Joseph faster than most—and they didn’t scar easily. Unless the weapon was made of magical silver.

What had they used on Livia to inflict those scars she traced?

A demon's allure was powerful. She hadn’t known how to control it, and the humans around her wouldn’t have been able to resist. But that wasn’t going to stop Joseph from gleaning the names of those who’d hurt her and hunting them down.

Rhye watched her intently, as if