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“He lives in Ontario, in Canada. Ask around for the family Sânrigla. They’ll find you . . .”
A year ago, none of this would have been possible. The Hunters had never allowed me to get this close to death before. Torture, yes. Horrifying experiments, yes. But not death. Not until a few months ago.
Typical Jason, insulting the cold, deadly male at his side while simultaneously making me see red. “Pup,” I warned, speaking through gritted teeth and casting Ash a furious glare when his lip twitched—never mind that he quickly schooled his face back into its neutral mask.
I was sent to the Hunters when I was six. It’s been eighteen years . . . After doing the math I realized I was actually twenty-four.
