ramifications of what she’d done slammed into her.
Jag knew. Her life was over. Her work. The Therian Guard would never let her near them again. No Therian would come near again. She’d be outcast. Ostracized.
Olivia pressed a fist to her stomach as if she could hold back the waves of shock.
Sooner or later, someone would end the threat she posed by snapping off her head or plucking out her heart.
Would that person be Jag? Would that time be now? Tonight?
Goddess help her, she had to get away from him.
She turned, shock squeezing her rib cage until she could hardly breathe, until she thought her body would cave in on itself, her heart imploding, turning her to dust.
Where would she go? She had nothing but the clothes on her back. Nothing.
She moved as if walking through ice water, each step a struggle as her body slowly went numb. With painful stiffness, she moved through the trees, traveling in no particular direction, with no destination. Only away. Away from the truth.
She never heard Jag approach. Whether he caught up to her on two feet or four, she didn’t know, but suddenly fingers closed hard around her arm, jerking her fully around to face the man and the thunderous expression on his healing face.
“You nearly let me die!”
She blinked, not expecting those to be his first words after what he’d learned of her, but perhaps she should have. “It would have been so easy.” The words escaped her lips, low and pained. “No one would have known. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t let you die to save myself.”
“You damned, life-sucking bitch. I was ready to give my life for you!” He shoved her away from him, and she stumbled backward, barely staying on her feet.
“I know. I couldn’t let you do that. Let me go, Jag. Let me walk away. You’ll never hear from me again. I’ll go someplace far from the Therians.” Of course, far from the Therians there would be few to no draden. Her purpose would be lost. Her reason for living gone. Pain closed around her throat as she tried to speak. “No one will ever hear from me again.”
Jag came at her slowly, every line in his body menacing. Part of her shouted at her to run, the part that wanted to live regardless of how hollow her life was destined to be.
But she didn’t move. Jag wanted his pound of flesh, and she couldn’t force herself to run from that. From him. With the Daemon venom still thick in her blood, she doubted she could run if she tried.
The dangerous anger in Jag’s eyes had her pulse thundering in her ears, and she felt as if she were finally facing the fate that had hovered at the edges of her life since the night her mother died.
Jag stalked her, forcing her to back up or be pushed to the ground. Not until a tree slammed into her back did he halt his forward drive, his powerful male body towering over her, gleaming in the moonlight. Heat poured off him even as his expression turned to granite.
His hand shot out, pressing against the tree directly over her head. A little while ago she might have thought he needed to brace himself, but she sensed that the energy racing through his body was strong and whole. He’d fully recovered from the draden attack, except for the bites themselves.
His mouth twisted nastily. “No wonder you’re faster and stronger than you should be. You steal the power from your opponents.”
“I don’t kill them. I never even hurt them.” Tendrils of cold snaked and curled around her internal organs, freezing everything they touched. “I control it, Jag.” Her voice sounded wooden. Flat, in direct counterpoint to the chaos tearing through her brain. “I’ve always controlled it.” Almost always.
Deep inside her, a small desperate voice cried out. Beg him not to tell. Beg him to keep your secret . But no one did she trust less than this Feral. He would toy with her before he struck. Torment her. But strike he would, of that she had no doubt.
His other hand shot to her jaw and gripped it hard,
Jag knew. Her life was over. Her work. The Therian Guard would never let her near them again. No Therian would come near again. She’d be outcast. Ostracized.
Olivia pressed a fist to her stomach as if she could hold back the waves of shock.
Sooner or later, someone would end the threat she posed by snapping off her head or plucking out her heart.
Would that person be Jag? Would that time be now? Tonight?
Goddess help her, she had to get away from him.
She turned, shock squeezing her rib cage until she could hardly breathe, until she thought her body would cave in on itself, her heart imploding, turning her to dust.
Where would she go? She had nothing but the clothes on her back. Nothing.
She moved as if walking through ice water, each step a struggle as her body slowly went numb. With painful stiffness, she moved through the trees, traveling in no particular direction, with no destination. Only away. Away from the truth.
She never heard Jag approach. Whether he caught up to her on two feet or four, she didn’t know, but suddenly fingers closed hard around her arm, jerking her fully around to face the man and the thunderous expression on his healing face.
“You nearly let me die!”
She blinked, not expecting those to be his first words after what he’d learned of her, but perhaps she should have. “It would have been so easy.” The words escaped her lips, low and pained. “No one would have known. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t let you die to save myself.”
“You damned, life-sucking bitch. I was ready to give my life for you!” He shoved her away from him, and she stumbled backward, barely staying on her feet.
“I know. I couldn’t let you do that. Let me go, Jag. Let me walk away. You’ll never hear from me again. I’ll go someplace far from the Therians.” Of course, far from the Therians there would be few to no draden. Her purpose would be lost. Her reason for living gone. Pain closed around her throat as she tried to speak. “No one will ever hear from me again.”
Jag came at her slowly, every line in his body menacing. Part of her shouted at her to run, the part that wanted to live regardless of how hollow her life was destined to be.
But she didn’t move. Jag wanted his pound of flesh, and she couldn’t force herself to run from that. From him. With the Daemon venom still thick in her blood, she doubted she could run if she tried.
The dangerous anger in Jag’s eyes had her pulse thundering in her ears, and she felt as if she were finally facing the fate that had hovered at the edges of her life since the night her mother died.
Jag stalked her, forcing her to back up or be pushed to the ground. Not until a tree slammed into her back did he halt his forward drive, his powerful male body towering over her, gleaming in the moonlight. Heat poured off him even as his expression turned to granite.
His hand shot out, pressing against the tree directly over her head. A little while ago she might have thought he needed to brace himself, but she sensed that the energy racing through his body was strong and whole. He’d fully recovered from the draden attack, except for the bites themselves.
His mouth twisted nastily. “No wonder you’re faster and stronger than you should be. You steal the power from your opponents.”
“I don’t kill them. I never even hurt them.” Tendrils of cold snaked and curled around her internal organs, freezing everything they touched. “I control it, Jag.” Her voice sounded wooden. Flat, in direct counterpoint to the chaos tearing through her brain. “I’ve always controlled it.” Almost always.
Deep inside her, a small desperate voice cried out. Beg him not to tell. Beg him to keep your secret . But no one did she trust less than this Feral. He would toy with her before he struck. Torment her. But strike he would, of that she had no doubt.
His other hand shot to her jaw and gripped it hard,
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