Feral's P.O.V.
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"We gotta talk," I said as I walked into War's office.
The door was open already, so I let myself in and shut it. I wasn't surprised to see Sabel there. She wasn't cuffed to him anymore, but she was cuffed to a 75-pound weight. She was sitting on the old leather sofa, frowning at the wall. The air was tense between them, unsurprisingly.
"You know she can probably move that weight, right?"
"Yes. But not faster than I can catch her."
"I'm not even trying to leave anymore!" Sabel yelled, but War ignored her.
"Thought we talked about this," I said quietly.
"Talking is easy," he replied, his eyes flickering to Sab. "Action is not."
"You need therapy," I muttered.
"I know. What do you want to talk about?"
"Naddy. And Delight."
"Oh,
