The blue light beneath Ethan’s skin was rhythmic, beautiful, and utterly lethal. It pulsed in perfect synchronization with the frantic thumping of my own heart, a digital death knell buried in the temple of the man I loved. Every beat seemed to say: Property of Wolfe. Return to Sender.
"Ethan," I whispered, my hand hovering over the glow. I didn't dare touch it. I feared that even the static electricity from my skin might trigger the final command.
Ethan’s eyes snapped open. They were wide, the pupils dilated until the mahogany was nearly gone, swallowed by a terrifying, artificial void. He wasn't looking at me; he was looking through me, his jaw locked in a silent scream of internal conflict. His muscles corded, his hands gripping the upholstery of the SUV until the leather tore.
"Grac
