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She couldn’t see my face behind the mask, but she was peering into my soul all the same. If I had one, that was. It felt like she was stripping me bare, like the centuries of protective barriers I’d built
around myself were nothing.
I took a small step forward, but Raven’s hand tightened again on my wrist. Her hand was a collar, her arm a leash, keeping me in check. She was holding me back, making my choice for me, and simultaneously saving us both, even if she didn’t know it.
What had she endured in her young life that made her not fear me? Not fear death?
It made my chest ache for her, then burn with so much fucking rage, I couldn’t see straight.
“Please don’t kill me,”
“Give me a reason why I shouldn’t,”
“Just one fucking
rea...
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“I—I’ll stop,”
“Stop what?”
“Hurting her.”
“Hurting her, how?”
“I—I just smack her around some,”
“You touch her any other way?”
“No,”
“Not like that.”
