[Nikolai]
Somehow, I knew the answer roughly after the question left my lips.
The pieces had already fallen into place. The strange behavior, the wrong scent, the way she'd moved and touched me like a stranger wearing a familiar skin.
"You're the f*****g shaman!"
She moved fast, trying to pull away, but I was faster.
My hand shot out and grabbed her by the throat, fingers closing around Isolde's neck with just enough pressure to hold her without crushing.
I was terrified of damaging Isolde's body—what if this was still her real body somehow, just controlled by someone else? What if hurting the shaman meant hurting her?
The woman wearing Isolde's face tried to knee me in the crotch, her leg driving upward with vicious intent.
I didn't feel the pain. That was one small mercy of the p
