I felt my skin go cold in spite of the heat of my magic. My mind too wasn't left out—the plan and all of its scaffolding were scattering themselves, pushing forcefully against it, causing my head to pound.
Darius. Had I been stupid to let him live? Yes. I had.
Freda would be disappointed in me for hesitating in that field. I had been softened by his tears of blood, by the sudden linking that happened between us, and had let him go. And now, I was paying the price; now, my plans were about to be shredded.
My teeth wouldn't stop gritting. I was losing control of my unbothered façade, but the anger just wouldn't let me see reason. Darius was closer than anyone had the right to be; he was closer to reading my intent like a book in his hand.
"You're persistent," I said, exhaling weakly, trying for casual. My voice, however, did not sound casual.
