Lysandra POV

His possession or his pet.

The words echoed in my skull like a blade dragging against bone. It took everything in me not to let the shift rip through my body when I saw him press her against that wall. The sound of his groan that groan, the one that should have been mine had my vision blurring with rage.

When I got my hands on that little bitch touching what belonged to me, I would make her regret breathing. I’d carve off those delicate fingers one at a time, peel her skin ...