Grounding.
“They do not get to decide who you are,” she says fiercely.
“They already did!” I shout. “They turned you intocollateral damagein my life!”
She flinches.
Then grabs my face.
“For the last time,” she says, eyes blazing, “I chose you. Not them. Not your genetics.You.”
The operatives start backing toward the door.
I feel the rage crest.
The perfect moment.
The exact scenario they engineered.
Bond threatened.
Betrayal revealed.
Aggression spike imminent.
My body wants to kill.
Everything in me screams for blood.
I shake.
Violently.
“No,” I whisper.
Kimberly presses her forehead to mine.
“Stay with me,” she murmurs. “Right here. Right now.”
My claws tremble.
My vision blurs.
I force them to retract.
One by one.
Agony.
Choice.
I drop to my knees.
Sobbing.
“I won’t be what you made me,” I choke. “I won’t.”
Kimberly sinks down with me, arms locked around my neck.
