Snippet #2811857

His consistent use of her name was about as grating on her mind as she was sure her use of his name had been just a day or two prior. However long ago that was. It felt like ages since she had sat across from him downstairs as he attempted to get answers out of her. The annoyance must have shown.

"Demons have no family. You have packs," she bit back before she could stop herself. How dare he insinuate that he was family to her after he had lead his pack to slaughter her entire village?

The outburst was brief yet the moment the words were out of her mouth she almost regretted them. Not because she felt he didn't deserve to hear them, he very much did, but she was losing control of herself. She had to steel herself away. She refused to get emotional in front of him, no matter how much it killed her to put that wall up.

It was his question about her lack of disclosure and not knowing of her survival that caused her to shake her head. Yet she didn't elect to answer. Her mind seemed to be on a one-track streak. It didn't matter what was occurring in the present. What mattered was the past and her decade-old hunt for those who had burned her childhood to the ground. Never in her wildest dreams did she think that Sverre would be at the center of it all.

"They trusted you. We all did. And you lead them to their slaughter," her words held less bitterness yet somehow the calm tone she had taken on was more chilling and concerning than open hostility she had shown him prior. She stopped just short of vowing to him that she would get the revenge she sought, the words catching in her throat. She had faced him, had the opportunity to kill, and had not taken it. But why?