Dax had a strong, forceful, totally merciless voice. A few feet distant, his arms crossed, his amber gaze fixed on me with a force that made my wolf bristle. My body protesting, I stumbled to my feet. As I changed my hold on the knife, its blade glinting in the weak early light, my hands shook. I gasped, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "I can't." You can, he snarled, moving forward. Also you will. Though he loomed above me, defiance drove me to stand straight rather than fear. Dax, you are not a warrior. "Not yet," he answered, his voice softening just enough to wound more deeply. But you will perish if you do not start behaving like one. And your kid will do likewise. His comments wounded, but they set off something inside of me—a spark of rage, of will. Aiming at him with the dagger, I surged forward. He sidestepped with easy fluidity and annoyingly simple motions. "Sloppy," he murmured, grasping my wrist and whirling just enough to disarm me. The dagger dropp
Last Updated : 2024-12-16 Read more