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Loren couldn’t breathe. Her eyes were bugging out of her head, and her knees were quaking, her lungs shriveling up into pulp—
A deep male voice ripped through Hell’s Gate.
Valary let go.
Loren staggered over to the table. She drew in a gasping breath as she steadied herself against it, sweaty hands gripping the cold edge. The vase of flowers rattled from her shaky grip, loose petals floating to the glass surface. Sweet air flooded her aching lungs, and she coughed, her throat burning as she drew in ragged breath after ragged breath.
With a smile that was nothing short of smug, Valary held up her hands in surrender as Travis rushed down the stairs, combat boots thumping on carpet. Mortifer hung from his neck like a chain, his beady red eyes filled with concern.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” Travis demanded. His fists were clenched, the tendons in his lean arms standing out beneath his skin. The pictures on the walls rattled as he stomped down the stairs.
Valary ignored him, the strange gold in her irises fading as she whipped her head around to face Loren. “He’ll get tired of your cunt soon enough, you little bitch.”
“That’s enough!” Travis thundered as he reached the last step and crossed the entrance hall. He waved a hand at the door. “Get out of here, and don’t let the door hit your trespassing ass on the way out.”
Valary cocked a daring eyebrow. “Looks like Darien’s temper has rubbed off on you, Trav.”
“I never liked you, Valary,” Travis said, his voice low but sharp as he stalked up to her. “The only reason I tolerated you is because Darien found you attractive enough to fuck. If you don’t get out of our house, I will cut that smug look off your face. You know how I like my blades.”
The threat had Loren swaying on her feet—and that smug look was indeed wiped off Valary’s face.
Travis gave Valary two seconds—two seconds to leave.
When the Warg didn’t budge, he exploded. “Get out!” he shouted, arms trembling with rage. “NOW.”
Loren’s heart skipped a beat from the volume of his voice, and it felt like her soul jumped right out of her skin.
Valary swung open the door. Just before she slipped out onto the front steps, she hissed to Loren, “I’ll be seeing you again.”
Travis grabbed the door and slammed it shut behind her, nearly hitting her in the back with it.
It took him a moment before he turned around. His nostrils were flared, the fire in his eyes terrifying. “I am so sorry—” he began.
“I can’t breathe, Travis,” she gasped. She pressed a hand to the ache in her chest. “I can’t breathe.”
He came over and pulled her into an embrace, reaching her just before her legs could give out. The planet felt like it was shaking.
Mortifer peered at her from behind Travis’s neck, his expression one of concern, his tiny fists gripping the Devil’s hair.
“It’s okay,” Travis said. “It’s okay.”
Loren tried to speak, tried to straighten, but she could do neither. She clung to him for several minutes, concentrating on slowing her frantic breathing, until she could finally stand on her own without the help.
She slowly broke away from Travis and gripped the edge of the table again. For a long time, she stared at the polished floor, her mind a mess.
Travis waited in silence, arms crossed, until she was ready to speak.
“I’m fine,” she said at last, her words hoarse. Even she could hear the lie in them. “I’m okay.”
“Did she hit you? Did she do anything—”
“I’m fine, Travis. What she did to my mind was far worse than what she did to my body.” She fought the sob building in her throat, the images Valary had shoved into her mind resurfacing with a vengeance.
A shadow crossed Travis’s face. “What did she—” He paused, his face smoothing with realization. “She showed you her memories of Darien.” He swore and rubbed a hand down his face.
“Don’t tell Darien. Please. Promise me you won’t tell him.”
“Loren, I can’t—”
