SARAH
The bones of Niko's fingers were a cage around my arm, but the real prison was the sight of her—Aria—fleeing from me. Her name was a silent scream in my skull, over and over, a frantic, desperate rhythm.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
And she was getting away.
My nails were claws in Niko's sleeve, digging, searching for the soft give of his flesh. I wanted to feel him bleed. He didn't move. A statue. A sentinel for a love that was a sickness.
"Let go of me!" The sound was not my own. It was the shriek of something cornered, something wild.
I threw my weight against him, a frantic, useless bird beating against glass. Once. Twice. My shoulders screamed with the impact. On the third try, his grip loosened. He let me go.
I staggered back, air sawing into my lungs like broken glass. The space where she'd been was a vacuum, sucking all the light from the world.
"You fucking BASTARD! You have no right—"
"You have done enough damage, Ms. Brown."
