Dark, furious pride.
Chloe shook her head, or tried to.
“Please,” she croaked.
That word.
Please.
As if my children had not probably used it.
As if she had cared.
As if I had not spent years begging the world silently to give me one place, one person, one f*****g day where I was not the extra body in someone else’s family.
“No,” I said.
The vines tightened.
“You tried to kill me.”
A pulse.
Her skin grayed.
“You tried to kill them.”
Another pulse.
Her eyes rolled.
“You used them.”
Another.
“You hurt them.”
Another.
“You are never going to touch my kids again.”
The last pull came from somewhere so deep I saw black spots at the edge of my vision.
Alaric cursed and held me tighter, one hand spreading over my stomach, the other locked under my ribs.
But Kara was there.
W
