Katrina pov
The iron grip around my throat tightened with a brutal, terrifying intensity, cutting off my air completely. I could feel the individual fingers of the hand crushing my windpipe, pressing into my flesh with all his power, pinning me ruthlessly against the hard parlor wall. The sheer violence of it rattled through my bones. My hands clawed desperately at his wrists, my fingernails digging into his skin, but it was like trying to tear through solid stone.
My lungs burned, screaming for oxygen that wouldn't come. My knees began to buckle, my body growing dangerously light as the edges of my vision flickered with a violent shade of black. I thought of the tiny, fragile life growing inside me—the baby Cove and I had just promised to protect. A silent, agonizing plea formed in my
