Nora's POV
"Tell me why I shouldn't tear out your throat right now," James snarls, his voice dripping with menace. "Your blood isn't even worth the effort of drinking. But I'd enjoy watching you suffocate on it before you die. Though honestly, death would be too merciful for you. I'd prefer dragging you back to my place, throwing you in the cellar, and seeing how much you enjoy being my personal test subject for months before I finally pierce your neck and let you bleed dry in front of me."
My breath catches in my throat, but I'm frozen in place. I should intervene. James never makes empty threats.
Yet I can't bring myself to move.
Can't force air into my lungs.
Can't admit to myself that part of me wants him to make good on his promise.
"Stop this!" a voice shouts from behind me. I spin around to find Charlette and Gideon approaching us.
