“The seamstress hasn’t given them back to me yet.” I crossed my arms. “We only asked her yesterday.”
“Then she’s had long enough.” He was already moving toward the door. “We’ll get them.”
“Caedmon, I’m not going there. We can wait.” I shook my head, trying to make sense of his mood. “You’re being difficult.”
Reagan spun on his heel, and the look he levelled at me made my stomach twist.
“Oh, right. My mistake for trying to protect you. Should I just let them have their way with you instead? Maybe being influenced sounds better to you?”
I opened my mouth to speak again, ready to tell him to shove his attitude down someone else’s throat. But then I felt it.
A strange numbness spread from the tips of my fingers and toes, curling upward like smoke.
“Fine. I feel it.”
“Do you feel this?” he asked with a tone that was unnervingly calm.
My words faltered. A suffocating heat surged inside me, anger rising too quickly, too unnatural to be my own. My patience thinned to the point of snapping.
“What in the gods’ name are you doing?”
“I’m showing you how important it is to take this seriously,” he drawled, his expression like stone. “Now, come closer.”
The command sliced through my thoughts, and before I could stop myself, my legs moved towards him. My heart drummed against my ribs as I closed the distance.
“Put your hands around my neck,” he ordered coldly.
My arms stiffened, yet moved as if they belonged to someone else.
“I can’t stop,” I breathed to myself. “I don’t know how to stop.”
My hands rose, completely subjected to his influence, and wrapped around his throat. Reagan didn’t flinch, didn’t blink. His neck was rigid under my touch.
“Now choke me,” he ordered.
“No,” I rasped, clenching my jaw.
But the tension in my hands told me the choice wasn’t mine.
My fingers tightened around his throat. The pressure was real. So was the panic rising inside my ribcage.
My rune didn’t work againsthim.
“Stop this,” I bit out, my voice trembling with rage and fear.
Reagan’s power snapped away like a thread cut clean. My hands flew to my chest, shaking with the feeling of his skin beneath my palms. White marks lingered on his neck before fading.
“Why would you do that?” I demanded, my voice raw. My blood felt like ice in my veins, and my heart wouldn’t stop hammering.
Cold, wretched prick.
“It was a demonstration,” he whispered. “So you understand what you’re up against. What you need to protect yourself from.”
“You think I don’t know?” My voice rose, splintered. “You think I need a twisted lesson to remind me how weak I am against your people? Against you?”
“That’s why you need to be twice as focused.”
“I know. It’s engraved into my skull.I’m human. I’m weak. I’m vulnerable. Believe me, Caedmon, I don’t need the reminder. If I let myself focus on it too much, I wouldn’t even leave this room.”
