
Her eyes soften a fraction when they land on me and she says, “Your lunch is on its way up now, and the counselor will come in to speak with you as soon as you’re done eating. I’d already known, but the way that she had broken the news and treated me ever since, it made me like her and, more importantly, trust her. When I woke up in the emergency room, she was the first person I’d seen, and she had been the person to tell me that my parents were killed in the accident. I glance up to see Nurse June scowling in the doorway, one fist propped on her hip like she’s ready to drag the other woman out of here at a moment’s notice. “Belinda? What are you doing in here? Leave Oleander alone!” My bond knew it, and so it urged me to keep my mouth shut, and even though I hate it most of the time, I listen when it tells me something like that. I didn’t understand it then, but the woman is trying to get me to talk to her, to figure out who it was that I belong to, so she could sell me out. The more she talks, the more furious my bond gets. Don’t be scared, with a Bond like that, you’re going to be okay.” I know that at least one of them is old enough to sign for your care, he’s the one who got you moved into this big, private room, so he must be from one of the upper society families. It’s all very secret and hush-hush around here, so they must be important. “It’s okay, I spoke to the head nurse, and she said your Bonds are on their way here. The nurse clicks her tongue, perching on the bed beside me and gently patting the back of my hand. I struggle not to let the tears brimming in my eyes fall.

Whatever happened in that car, it had bleached the color from my hair. It’s silver now, but yesterday it was black.


I can’t look up at the nurse who is speaking to me, her tone warm and kind, and instead, my eyes focus on the long tendrils of my hair that are over my face.

All of that long, blonde hair, your Bonds are going to be so happy to know that you made it out of that car wreck unharmed.” “Oleander? Oleander Fallows? God, you look like a pretty little thing sitting up there in that big bed. The craving, the wanting, the overwhelming need to consume… it never goes away for long. My bond is quiet in my chest, as though the surge of it coming out to protect me has sated the constant thirst for blood it seems to have for now, but I already know it won’t last long. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
