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I didn’t know what was going on, but Delara was pale as fuck and there was a haunted look in her eyes. Waleron was pissed at her, that much was obvious.
“You will come tonight because Liam has demanded your presence,” Waleron said, his voice harsh. “But I expect you gone when this is over. You will go to another Talde.”
Delara opened her mouth, about to say something, her expression filled with pain and horror. The friction between them—and it wasn’t the usual sexual electricity—was catastrophic. Everyone in the room felt it, tasted it, or scented it. I had never seen Delara so meek and fearful before.
She lowered her gaze from Waleron and nodded.
What the fuck? Waleron wanted Delara to leave? Leave the Toronto Talde? Jesus. Every face in the room was stunned into silence, except Jedrik who was stupid enough to protest.
“What are you talking about?” Jedrik looked at Waleron, who gave no answer. Then he turned to Delara. “Delar? Why? What does he mean?”
“Leave it,” Waleron ordered.
Jedrik opened his mouth to retort and Waleron raised his hand and slammed Jedrik with a bolt of energy, sending him across the room and right through the drywall into the next room.
“Jedrik,” Delara cried. She took two steps toward him then stopped. With one look at Waleron, she turned, walked past all of us, and went upstairs.
