Trick or Treat for the Desperate Devil
Page 115
“Of course, a Sprite might know the lore of the Leeds family.”
“Is it true?”
Silence.
“Damian, is it true? Did you claim me without asking?”
He takes one step toward me. I take one back.
That stops him. Pain flashes across his face, and I swear it echoes inside me.
“Yes.”
One word. That's all it takes.
My stomach drops.
“You claimed me.”
“Yes.”
“You fucking claimed me?”
“Belinda, listen—”
“Without asking me?”
“I didn't understand what was happening until—”
“Neither did I!”
My magic erupts. Red-edged gold sparks race up both arms.
Damian stares at them. Then at me.
And instead of looking frightened, the infuriating man looks relieved. Almost awed.
“Fuck,” he whispers. “It really is you.”
My blood runs cold.
“What does that mean?”
His eyes meet mine. And when he answers, there is no hesitation whatsoever.
“You're my promised.”
There it is again.
Someone else telling me what I am.
What I'm supposed to be.
Who I'm supposed to belong to.
No.
I shake my head.
