“Leave her bed, Nephilim.” The same shadows that flickered in his eyes swirled around his inked neck, flowing past his button-up to wrap around his tensing arms and sheath his hands.
“Oliver can be wherever he wants to be,” I said in his defense.
The general blinked and raised his chin. A shadow whipped out from his hand and snaked around Oliver’s bicep, yanking him off my bed. He stumbled as the general forced him away from me.
“Who the hell do you think you are, barging in here and manhandling him?” I stood and reached for Oliver. Immediately, the room swayed, and my legs wobbled. Before I could fall, another shadow flew toward me—along with Oliver and a large, whimpering Soulhound.
Rune crashed into Oliver, sending him careening into my side. I grunted and tensed for the impact of the hardwood floor. But it never came.
The shadows that flew toward us cushioned our fall and slowly lowered us to the ground.
“You okay, Lucy?” Oliver mumbled.
Rune pressed her wet nose into my cheek, and I gave her a small glare. She didn’t mean to slam Oliver into me and knock us down. She just seemed to have no idea how big she actually was.
“Yeah. You?”
“Well, I got a faceful of your bony shoulder, and I’m pretty sure Rune bruised my side, but I’m fine,” he said, lifting his head to give me a goofy wink before flopping it back into my neck with a groan.
“Leave, Nephilim.” Shadows overtook the unique gold of the general’s eyes, turning them into dark, fathomless pits. “She needs to change and eat. Her father wants to meet with her in a couple of hours.”
Oh, goodie. Another controlling, powerful asshat.
“And I was just getting comfortable too.” Oliver sighed, untangling his legs from mine.
The general’s expression narrowed. Two shadows shot out and snaked around Oliver’s arms, forcing him to his feet.
His emerald eyes flashed with fire before settling to irritation. I sat up, meeting the general’s gaze with a defiant stare—for Oliver’s sake—but as much as I wanted to snap at him, I forced myself to hold back. Mainly because this was the male I needed to convince to help me, and we were already off to a disastrously bad start.
“Go, Oliver. I’ll be okay.”
“You sure?” A rebellious smile twitched at the corner of his lips. Oliver would try his damndest to stay if I asked.
We had come a long way in our friendship.
“Yes, I’ll explain later.”
His smile flattened, understanding I had something serious to talk about—something he probably wouldn’t agree with. But the part about rescuing his sister would pique his interest.
“Alright. I’ll be back later, then.” Oliver turned, eyeing the general up and down as he left. The general took no notice of him, his drilling, dark stare directed only at me.
Wonderful.
I pushed to my feet, and his shadows helped to hold me up. Part of me wanted to tell him to get off me, but I couldn’t stand without him. Lying unconscious in a bed for a week left me shaky and unstable. It also explained the ache in my stomach.
But I could do without the angry staring contest as I climbed back into bed. Well, angry for him. I’d shoved all my glares into a locked box, and keeping it shut took strength. Especially when his expression said I wasn’t worth his time or energy.
“So, I guess thanks for saving me twice now. And saving my mom.”
It was a pathetic attempt at gratitude, but I couldn’t muster anything more, especially with the awkward tension thick in the air.
His eyes returned to their luminous gold. “Twice?”
“Yeah…” I tilted my head. “You and that female woke me up?”
I’d been so close to giving in to the Void when Marcus held me prisoner and poisoned me for Michael. But the general’s voice—and the powerful emotion that bellowed out of him—woke me up. He’d acted like he knew me. But now, it looked like he not only didn’t know me, but despised being in my presence.
Maybe I got it wrong. Maybe it wasn’t his voice.
