Trusting a warlock
It shouldn’t have surprised me. I could still feel Kharris’s eyes. The usually playful sparkling hue was flat and serious. Angry even. Hell, I even knew why.
Because I had used Iloam.
Soooooooo..... maybe I could have done things differently. I should have figured out someone else to use to cleanse the corrupted soulstone. So maybe there were pieces of decay and voices of the past lurking in the bottom of that oily stone. But they are fucking crazy, if they think for a second; I was sticking that putrescent vile stone that smelled like another warlock in my ex-husband.
Jericho may not be mine now, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t kill everyone in that room to protect him.
Iloam was strong. He could take it.
So why the hell was it Kharris’s eyes that I saw as I walked away from the scene.
That flicker of suspicion.