Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Paling, Ciaran rubbed a hand down his face. “Shit, Harper, I should have stayed with him.”
“No, I should have stayed with him.” She was his mother; she was supposed to protect him.
“You hurt? You have blood dripping down your temple.”
Becoming suddenly aware of the wet trickle, Harper wiped it with the back of her hand. “Hit my head on the wall.” Until right then, the throbbing ache of the wound hadn’t registered. “I’m fine. But the other kids are, and they need help. Maybe if you teleport them out of the room they’ll unfreeze or something—I don’t know. I need you to go back, do what you can, and make sure that everyone knows that me and Asher are okay. We can’t afford for Jolene or the sentinels to go off the deep end.”
Ciaran nodded and then gently shook Asher’s hand. “Take care, kid.” With that, he teleported away.
She pressed a kiss to Asher’s head, inhaling his sweet scent. Tears stung her eyes, but she held them back. “You okay, baby boy?” she asked softly, doing her best to mask her fear. He was here, safe and warm and unhurt. “I think it’s time to call your father. But not while you’re in the room, just in case his demon blows a gasket.” Meg, I need you.
Meg entered the room moments later, brow furrowing. “Harper, what’s wrong?”
“I need you to take Asher up to his room and just watch him for a little while. Can you do that, please?”
“Of course.” Meg carefully took him. “But you haven’t yet told me what’s wrong.”
Harper flexed her fingers. It had hurt to let him go when all she wanted was to cling tightly to him. “I will; I just need to speak with Knox first.”
“All right. Call me when you’re done here.”
Once they left the room, Harper closed her eyes and took a long, steadying breath. She wanted to cry. Lash out. Scream until her throat hurt. Instead, she desperately sought calm. If she didn’t, she’d only feed Knox’s anger. But it was hard while the panic and terror were still so fresh and the adrenalin crash had left her edgy and restless.
She found herself pacing, footsteps stiff and jerky. She simply couldn’t settle. Couldn’t shake off the anger or fear. Especially while her inner demon was raging, demanding vengeance. Demanding that someone pay and pay dearly. Knox’s demon would no doubt demand the same thing.
The first time she’d met Knox, he’d rattled her typically dauntless inner demon. He didn’t just exude blatant danger, he embodied it. He was as brutal, merciless, and ruthless as the demonic population believed him to be. Still, Knox never spewed venom or yelled. Never exploded or foamed at the mouth. But he didn’t always contain the rage either. And when he let it out, well, people tended to die. Especially if his demon—an entity that was cold, malevolent, and hard as stone—took the reins.
Knox had a better hold on his inner demon than most did. There was no way for anyone to fully control the entities. Work with them? Yes. But that meant ceding control to them at times while still maintaining the position of dominant figure. The constant power struggle led some to turn rogue, go insane, or commit suicide. As such, most demons were eager to find their psi-mates.
Demons came in pairs, which meant each had a predestined psi-mate, or “anchor”, that would make them stronger and enable them to maintain the dominant position over their inner demon. The bond was purely psychic, not sexual or emotional. Still, anchors were often very close. Even the pairs who didn’t get along very well would still be supportive, loyal, and defend each other against any threat. Who wouldn’t want such absolute loyalty? Someone they could always count on, no matter what?
It wasn’t all stars and rainbows, though. Anchors could be possessive, overprotective, and highly meddlesome. It was also psychically uncomfortable for the pairs to be apart for long periods of time. Moreover, the death of an anchor was painful and draining for a demon. So, yeah, there were good points and bad points.
In addition to being Harper’s mate, Knox was her anchor, so he’d been annoyingly protective and intrusive from the beginning. It had surprised her that he wanted the anchor bond. He was powerful enough all on his own and maintained dominance over his inner demon just fine. Of course, he still relinquished control to it when necessary, but never for long. But it didn’t need “long” to cause utter destruction, and she knew it would be tempted to cause exactly that when she told him—
Her head snapped up as Ciaran reappeared with the sentinels.
“What the fuck just happened?” demanded Keenan, eyes manic, as he slung Asher’s bag on the floor near the sofa.
“Who was attacked—you or Asher?” Tanner asked, muscles rigid.