The color vanished from Landon's face so quickly I could practically hear the blood whooshing south.
"How do you know about that?" His voice was a hoarse whisper.
I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
But he had a secure, rock-solid place in a pack that would protect him, no questions asked — and yeah, they were the Kroger store-brand of packs.
But they still had fighters like Lucian, or Jace. A council. Allies like Fenwick and Dor.
He wasn't alone in the world, and he could go fuck himself with his self-pity. I was sure it was big enough to give him a good ride.
"Everyone knows what a pathetic wuss you are, Landon. Letting your father use you like that."
I doubted almost anyone knew, actually, but the more off-balance he was, the less likely he was to be able to maintain that fucking spell he had on me.
