Amara POV
The smile on the master’s face doesn’t change, but something in his gaze sharpens, causing me to take a short step back.
“You don’t wear it,” he says, voice mild. Certain. “Yet, it is yours all the same.”
My breath catches despite myself.
I don’t look at Tomas, who’s staring directly at me. I won’t give him that satisfaction. My fingers curl at my sides instead, nails biting into my palms as I steady my voice.
“Mine? It was put on me by some creepy vampire vendor. How is it mine? ” I question. Maybe I’ll get some answers about the damned thing.
He hums softly.
“Ownership is not always something we choose,” he replies. “Some things are chosen for us long before they are understood.”
The words slither through me, making the hair on the back of my neck stand. He isn’t guess
