Demon

In book two.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Demon!” my own voice growled ferociously at the image.

It smiled knowingly back at me.

“Oh no. I’m not the demon. Y-”

The image disappeared in a violent crash as every mirror in the room shattered, falling to the floor.

I stood next to the chair breathing quickly, unharmed and untouched by the glass fragments surrounding me.

It was only when there was a shadow over me, did I realize that someone else was now in the room with me.

My hand swung back behind me, but didn’t reach its target as expected.

Donte stood in front of me, his hand around the wrist of my fully-fledged clawed hand.

His scent said more than I wanted him to. I couldn’t look at his eyes, knowing what I’d see there: Disappointment, frustration, and a slight trace of anger.

There was nothing I could say. If he were to ask why…I wouldn’t be able to answer. I didn’t know.

Still holding my wrist, Donte raised my face gently with his other hand under my chin, forcing me to look at him. His eyes were as I thought they would be, but I thought I saw a hint of sympathy in them as he bore into these eyes of a beast.

I could probably never say how he could have affected me so, but after a few seconds the intensity of my sensibility to everything around me began to dim. The claws retreated from my fingertips and I became numb.

Donte took my hand and carefully pulled me over the broken mirrors and out the door.