Feeling Robyn grow still, Shay’s heart stopped for a microsecond. Dread cut through her like ice. She looked at the female and noticed her staring at Shay’s upper thigh. She swallowed hard, afraid of what the woman might be thinking of her now, of the symbol tattooed into her skin. Just under the denim, but poking out enough, was the brand she’d worn her whole life. The dark moon rising out of the clouds. The mark of the Onyx Pack

— Lia Davis

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