They shone a violent, seething crimson. I’d never seen anything like that before.
“Thorne,” I whispered again, my heart breaking.
Her lips parted, and for a second, I thought she might speak. But instead, she smiled. A crooked, too-wide smile that stretched her already bleeding mouth.
I shuddered, then told myself to knock it off. My friend needed me. She needed to lie down so we could address her wounds. I couldn’t wilt like a precious flower. Thorne’s blood-slicked smile widened, like she was genuinely pleased to see me.
“It’s okay,” I said softly. “I’m here, and you’re hurt. So, let us?—”
Thorne’s head tilted just slightly. And then, in a voice that very much did not belong to her, she said, “Hello, little dove.”
I froze mid-step. The voice was low. Male. And familiar in a way that made my skin crawl.
Thorne’s brothers all went stiff, their eyes turning to their little sister, and their expressions stricken with horror.
“I’ve been looking for you,” the voice cooed. It was too smooth, too calm. “You really shouldn’t have run. You know how much I hate chasing you.”
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Because I knew that voice.
“Trystan,” I said, ice in my veins.
He grinned using Thorne’s mouth. “Still sharp.”
My knees buckled, but I wouldn’t let myself fall apart. Not in front of him. I had no idea how Trystan had done it, but he was using Thorne’s body as a conduit. Magic, I suspected. It was the only explanation.
My eyes fluttered shut for a brief second while I composed myself. Lucien moved behind me, his weight a comforting presence. But the movement attracted Trystan’s attention. He slitted Thorne’s eyes and shot Lucien a scathing glare.
“Let her go,” I demanded, grateful my voice held steady. “She is not your personal toy.”
His eyes snapped back to me. “No, but she’s yours, isn’t she?” Trystan said. Her gory smile stretched, like her face was being yanked in two directions. “I just couldn’t resist meeting your new friend. I enjoyed playing with her.”
Ricky surged forward. “Get the fuck out of her.”
I raised my hand to stop him. “He wants a reason to hurt her. Don’t give him what he wants.”
“Or do,” Trystan said, laughing. “It’ll be fun.”
Pure, unadulterated loathing lit within me. “You’re a coward,” I spat. “Using her like this. But that’s who you are, isn’t it? A coward? You use people to get what you want. To make yourself feel big.”
“Careful, Isadora,” Trystan warned. “Or I might not give her back to you.”
Cassian snarled. Loudly.
I bared my fangs. “You think your threats scare me? You think crawling inside someone I love will make me run?”
“No, I think hurting the ones you love will force you to run,” he stated coldly. “You forget, my love. I know you. I know your heart and your weaknesses. You won’t let me hurt anyone on your behalf.”
“You don’t know me,” I said. “Not anymore.”
“Oh, my sweet. No one knows you better. Not that pitiful vampire at your back. Not these useless werewolves surrounding you. They don’t know the real you. But I do.” His voice dropped to a rasp. “She bled so easily, Isadora. I expected more of a fight, especially from a werewolf. And she screamed. Oh, did she scream. It was exquisite.”
My stomach lurched and my hand gripped Lucien’s without so much as thinking about it.
Trystan noticed the movement, and his expression darkened. His eyes caught mine and fury blazed within. “Come back to me, and I won’t hurt anyone else. Choose to stay in Eternity Falls and I will kill the next person I find.”
He tilted Thorne’s head, eyes meeting mine before he lifted them to Lucien behind me.
“Maybe next time, it’ll be someone you truly care about. And maybe next time, I won’t be as gentle. Tick tock, little dove. Tick tock.”
