Chapter 92 Poor Colin

Jane’s POV

Keila lunged towards me, the shift ripping through her as she pounced.

But she didn’t strike. She leapt straight past me with a snarl, spun around – kicking the mirror off the wall and crashing her paw through the bath tub, which shattered into huge chunks of ceramic and clattered across the tiled floor – only to shift back. Her clothes drifted to the floor like dandelion seeds on the wind.

“Come on, Colin,” she huffed, breezing past me and grabbing him instead. Before either of us could protest, she yanked him out of the room. I followed them numbly into the bedroom and stared after the pair of them as Keila sauntered out into the corridor, towing Colin with her.

She didn’t look back.

But he did.

“I’m sorry,” he mouthed, his brow creasing.

A lump swelled in my throat, so thick and so fast that I couldn’t even move my lips to mouth him anything in return. I wanted to follow him, but Keila’s threat was clear. But if I didn’t, what sort of fate was I condemning him too?

I c