Nino’s POV.
I don’t think I’ve ever let go of someone that quickly.
Isadora stumbles slightly when I wrench my hand away from her. I stare at Fiona with a heavy tongue and a racing heart as she analyses the scene in front of her, her eyes trail from the shards of glass piled up on one side of my room and then they move onto i and Isadora.
I watch something solidify in her eyes and dread pools in my stomach. When her eyes meet mine there’s now outrage or pain or even frustration, it’s just calm, clear hazels that don’t betray the traces of emotions I can feel through the bond.
My fingers begin to tremble and I ball them before I can run them through my hair. I couldn’t let anyone know what a thin string I was literally balancing on, not while Isadora was still standing here, with a faux
