“You killed her,” David growls, the words torn straight from his chest.
Devin smiles. “I freed her from your illusions.”
I don’t remember deciding to move.
One second I’m standing there staring at Bella on the ground, and the next I’m charging, Atticus right beside me, our wolves surging forward in perfect alignment, three predators closing in on one who finally understands that the game has shifted.
Devin reacts fast.
He always does.
He lunges for Bella instinctively, hand snapping out like he means to grab her again, but my father intercepts him with bone crushing force, slamming into him hard enough to send them both skidding across the clearing. Atticus and I split automatically, flanking without needing to speak, instincts dovetailing clean and lethal.
Devin is strong.
Stronge
