MAYA’S POV
I backed away from the mangled mess on the floor, my hands trembling so hard I had to tuck them into my armpits. The copper scent of blood was still thick in the air, but now it made my stomach turn instead of growl. I began to pace the narrow strip of carpet between the broken bed and the window, my heels clicking against the floorboards.
Delinda leaned over Jalen, her hands glowing with a soft, pulsating violet light as she began to knit the shredded muscle of his chest back together. She didn't look up, but I could feel her eyes on me.
"You’re pacing around like you’re tensed," she said, her voice flat and laced with a judgment she wasn't trying to hide.
“Because I am tensed,” I fired back.
“Why?” she asked. I stopped, glaring at her with a raised brow. She looked at me.
