~Kaeren~
The air in the interview hall had been thick enough to choke a man, and as I walked away from the wreckage of my dignity, I felt the phantom weight of $300,000,000 dragging at my heels.
My chest felt tight, the bond with Waverly humming with a static that only reminded me of the betrayal. Every time I looked at her during that farce of a meeting, I saw the woman I had wanted to protect—and the stranger who had just sold my secrets for a price.
I loathed her family. They were rotten to the core, professional liars who wore high-class silk as if it were stolen skin. Drodd's easy confidence, Imogen's shrill, calculated indignation—it was a performance that had saved our lives but killed my soul.
I was starting to regret this charade. I was starting to regret the very moment I sank my teeth into her neck. But the mark on her neck throbbed in rhythm with my own heartbeat, a permanent reminder that whether she was a saint or a snake, she was mine.
