The wardens had touched her, damaging Grace. They would perish. Badly. By the time James finished with them, they would possibly thank him for killing them.
All he had to do was free himself. And he would. Nothing would halt him. Not now, not anymore.
"Soon" had at last appeared.
Being a pureblood ancient vampire, as Grace had called him, was not going to aid him; James admitted that now. Still, his eagerness intensified, stirring with the scorn, the burn of that possessiveness. He would reach her by grit alone; he would protect her. No matter what he had to do. His gaze wandered to the wrist cuffs and dwindled. Without his thumbs, his hands would slide right through.
He didn’t have to think about it. Goodbye, thumbs.
Biting his tongue against the anguish he knew was to come, he bange
