by Colleen Foley
She’d played my symptoms with a will hard as oak. Rage and pain held at bay, eagerness and need
rampant beyond measure. She’d ripped the history of my memories of
every woman I’d ever been with from my head, glamouring herself into an
amalgam of all of them.
I’d been close, painfully so, when Seth
blew her across the room with some spell. Seeing her reality,
eccentric and horrible, I rolled to my side, vomiting and finding
I had enough good grace to feel disgust and shame seconds before her control vanished, and I went for Seth’s throat.