Close. But not close enough.
"Grab my breast. Take it up a notch," I whisper against Sin’s mouth.
Sin freezes for a heartbeat — just a breath — then, to his everlasting credit, he does it. Full-on handful, squeeze and everything. I moan shamelessly, grinding against him like I’ve never heard of public decency.
I deserve an award for this performance. A shiny one. Preferably handed to me by a very repentant Draven after we’re done saving his royal ass.
“Ven, what—” Amira's screech cuts off with a blood-curdling snarl tearing from Draven’s throat.
Bingo.
I pull away from Sin and whisper, “Stand behind me.”
"Remember what I said, Kassira," Sin growls low, eyes flicking to Draven, tense and ready.
"Yeah, yeah. If things go south, I grab your hand," I mutter, waving him off.
My heart shatters when I look at Draven.
He’s trying to shift.
Trying.
His fangs snap forward and retreat again and again. One massive wing bursts from his back, but the other hangs limp, mangled. His claws come halfway out before sliding back into trembling fingers. Blood pours from where he rakes at his own chest, thick rivers dripping onto the floor.
He growls. He howls. The hallway shakes.
And still... Draxis can’t break through.
Tears blur my vision. My fists clench tight at my sides.
Please, Draxis. Please.
“He can’t,” Neris whispers inside my head, her voice crushed by helplessness. “He can’t break through the leash this time.”
The scream Amira launches at me slices through my grief.
"You just couldn't help yourself, could you?!" she shrieks.
I whip my head toward her, baring my teeth.
"Shut the fuck up, you stuck-up bitch!" I snarl back. It’s the first time I’ve even acknowledged her since the funeral.
Her eyes gleam with pure hatred.
"I knew it. I should’ve had him bury you in the darkest hole under this palace," she hisses. “Your days are numbered, runt.”
And then she shifts — fast, snapping into her wolf form — and lunges straight for me.
Before she can reach me, Draven moves.
He grabs the back of her wolf neck and hurls her through the air so violently the wall she slams into cracks all the way up to the ceiling.
Oh, I like that.
She slumps to the ground, unconscious, nothing but a heap of fur.
Who's the runt now, you stupid shrew?
