I grabbed Claus by the arm and threw him out. He wasn't supposed to be here anyway.
But it wasn't that fact that made me kick him through the curb.
Or that his pheromones stunk like rotten trash.
No.
I pushed him out the door in such a hurry and passion for one reason only.
He was going to die if he remained wrapped around me like a Velcro child.
I have never smelled Emiliano so angry.
His scent was burning through my lungs, making my throat ache. And it didn't help my heat at all.
I could only imagine what it smelled like to Claus, but -
Given the way his eyes almost popped out of his skull and his tongue tripled in size-
I would say it wasn't exactly Chanel No. 5.
I moved rather quickly, desperate.
Not because I was protecting Claus, but because I was protecting someone.
I brought too much death around me lately.
One small save wasn't going to wash out the blood on my hands, but it wouldn't dirty them further either.
