I shoved Devon back so hard his spine hit the mahogany desk, papers scattering like startled birds.
"Call the witch. Now." My voice cracked like a whip. "Or I swear on every drop of blood you've spilled, I'll tear this place apart, ghost by ghost."
He didn't move, just stared at me with those storm-grey eyes, pupils blown wide. Obsession looked good on him, sick as that was.
"You won't hurt them," he said, low and certain. "You're not that cruel."
"Try me." I snatched the letter-opener from the desk and pressed the silver tip to my own throat. "One push and I bleed out. How long before I'm a ghost too, Devon? How long before you have to watch me walk around with dead eyes like the rest of your puppets?"
His face went white. Actually white. The Alpha who'd bathed in blood paled at the sight of one tiny blade against my skin.
"Irene—" It came out broken.
I dug deeper into my collarbone, claws out. A bead of blood rolled down my collarbone. "Call. Her."
