My breath shortens as his gaze bores into mine.There’s no cruelty there.No sneer.Just raw, lethal protectiveness, heavy as a hand around my throat.It’s the same look he wore when we hid in the pantry the night our parents died.The same look he wore when he beat my first foster brother to death.
I want to talk to him, demand answers, scream accusations, and pound my fists on his chest until he coughs up the truth.Who are his enemies?What does he want with me?Will he kill Wolf like all the others?
Carl and Jasper close ranks, more assertive than usual, funneling me toward the harbor.I let them move me along, but my eyes stray over my shoulder, remaining fixed on Jag.
He removes the phone from his pocket and taps the screen.
A vibration buzzes against my palm, and I look down.
Jag: How’s your boy?
Me: Don’t touch him.
Jag: I didn’t.
The dots bounce.Pause.Bounce again.
Jag: Can’t say he didn’t touch me.
My breath punches out, and I slam to a stop.
“Miss Rath.”Jasper nudges me forward.“We need to—”
“I need to answer this text.Give me a minute.”Subtly, I peer toward the alley and glare at the shadow still lingering there.
Me: What did you do?
Jag: You know and you’ll think about it tonight when you’re alone.
The words blur.My throat burns.I almost drop the phone.
Why am I surprised?This is what he does.As long as he lives, he’ll steal every person I care about.He steals them.Then he kills them.
Me: Why can’t you leave me alone?Please.Just walk away.Let me go.
Jag: Little Bird, walking away from you is the one sin I’ll never commit.
Little Bird.
Shimmery, traitorous warmth flushes my cheeks and sweeps through my bloodstream before doubt crashes in.
He speaks in venomous lullabies, always half-truth and half-hook.He knows how to string me between craving and loathing until I forget how deadly he is.
This has to stop.
As Carl and Jasper shift impatiently, scanning the perimeter, Jag sinks deeper into the shadows.I know he’s still there, watching me from the darkness.I feel him more than I see him, that glaring, overprotective aura embracing me too tightly.Suffocating.
I tear my eyes away and let the guards guide me down the street.
Their presence forms an iron wall around me, but I still feel my stepbrother, pursuing his prey, his jaguar eyes slicing into my back, and branding me with a vow I feel in my bones.
Soon.
I can only assume that means one thing.The sooner he has me, the sooner he can throw me away.
At the pier, tourists crowd in clusters.Locals haul crates, and fishermen shout over gulls.All the usual chaos.But amid the bustle of bodies, someone stands out.
Not a fisherman.Not a tourist or commuter.Not anyone with a purpose.Just an average man wearing average street clothes.Dressed to vanish into a crowd.
