“I can do this myself,” I say quietly. “If you need to be with Jamison right now.” Her fingers jerk the laces hard, pulling the fabric so tight against my rib cage that I can’t even draw breath to cry out. “No, my dear,” says a vicious voice that is definitely not Freya’s. “I think I need to be with you.” “Lilith.”
HOLY FUCKING SHIT BITCH
