ELIRA POV
The possessed pack member lunged at me with claws extended, moving faster than any normal werewolf should.
I rolled sideways, barely dodging the attack. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might burst. Three hours ago, I'd been hiding in the forest, furious and angry about losing my chance to be Luna. Now I was fighting for my life against people I'd grown up with.
"Mrs. Henderson?" I gasped, recognizing the woman trying to kill me. She'd taught me how to braid my hair when I was little.
But Mrs. Henderson's eyes were shining that sick green color, and when she smiled, her teeth looked like they'd been sharpened into points.
"Little Elira," she said in a voice that wasn't hers. "Still playing dress-up, I see. Still pretending to be important."
The words hit harder than her claws would have. Even occupied by Shadow Lords, she was saying the same things everyone always said about me. That I was fake. That I was trying to be something I wasn't.
