nisElena’s POV

Seeing Blake Thornton standing in my bedroom, in my body, wearing my clothes and pacing like a caged animal, was not something my brain was built to handle before breakfast.

I stood in his yard, in his body, staring through my own window, watching him throw his hands in the air and mutter to himself using my face, and I swear something inside my eye actually twitched.

This was wrong on levels I did not even have words for.

“We need to talk!” I yelled through the open ...