Slowly, the blinding, chaotic silver in his eyes began to recede, dulling into a fractured, muted hue.
Panicked by what I had just done, I ripped my hands away and scrambled backward on the dirt, drawing my knees to my chest in a desperate defensive posture. "I don't care if you're using my husband's body!" I yelled, my voice shaking with a volatile mix of anger, disgust, and tears. "I will kill you! If you try to hurt me again, I will tear this body to pieces to get rid of you! Do you hear me?!"
Draven stood perfectly still, looking down at the blade protruding from his shoulder. Then, a slow, beautiful smile spread across his lips.
"First blood," he murmured.
Slowly, deliberately, he began to clap. Smack. Smack. Smack.
He began to pace around me in a slow circle, like a wolf inspecting its prey. I tracked him with wide, defensive eyes, my muscles tense, ready to strike again if he lunged.
