TAVRIC
"She knows too much. I don't think she's a mere human." Jaxl's mindlink is sharp with an edge of controlled panic. "What do we do?"
We get information from her. By any means necessary.
I keep my eyes fixed on her outstretched hands, then on the unsettling casualness in her expression. She looks like she hasn't just shattered our cover story to pieces. She looks like she hasn't just admitted to knowing exactly who I am and what Lucy is to me.
"Who are you?" I demand.
Before she can open her mouth, I cut through the air with a scoff. "And before you sidestep the question or feed us half a story—know this: I won't accept vague answers. You tell me what I want to know, or you deal with me personally."
As desperate as I am to find my mate, I'm not following a stranger into an unknown void. Not the way Lucy did.
My heart grapples with the thought of her—where she is, what she's doing, whether she's frightened.
