NOLA
The wood of the front door vibrates against my spine as a heavy weight slams into the other side. The sound is a dull, bone crunching thud followed by a snarl so deep it feels like the foundation of the house is shivering. I scramble back, my breath coming in short, jagged hitches as I stare at the iron bolt I just slid home. It feels like a toothpick against the raw, animal violence erupting on the lawn.
I still have the obsidian claw clutched in my hand, the sharp edge drawing a thin line of blood across my palm, but the sting is nothing compared to the terror of what I just saw. Rhett’s skin rippling, the sound of his spine popping like dry kindling, and those eyes. Those golden, non human eyes that looked at me with a mix of agonizing love and predatory hunger.
I don’t go to th
