Lyla
His lips curved into a slow, wicked smile.
"Interesting," he murmured, taking a step toward me.
I had just made a dangerous mistake. I had just revealed my hand.
The blood oath meant I couldn't attack him – I was supposed to be submissive, bound to his will like a fool. If I were indeed under the oath's power, I couldn't have pushed him away or defied him at all.
I looked at Nathan and saw he knew I'd been faking my submission all along.
"So, you've been playing games, Lyla," he said, straightening his shirt where I'd gripped it. "I suspected as much, but thank you for confirming it so… dramatically."
"I don't know what you're talking about, and I'm sorry if I pushed you. You know how it is with my powers. I haven't learnt mastery of it and…"
He threw a pocket knife to me, and instantly, I caught it. In my defense, it was coming directly to my face. What was I supposed to do?
