Her eyes opened fully now. They didn't look like hers—too sharp, too lucid.
"Not yet," she repeated, slower this time.
Deliberate. Like she wanted me to savor each syllable.
I staggered back, nearly tripping over the chair. My body felt too big for me, my limbs untrustworthy, my breath coming shallow and broken.
"You're telling me you're going to?" I whispered. "Or you already have?"
She stayed silent. The lamp flickered. My ledger sat open on the nightstand, mocking me with its presence.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to end my life if I could ever have done so.
I reeled back, heat flushing up my neck. "What the hell do you mean 'not yet'?!" My voice cracked, higher this time. "Are you planning to—what, seduce him? Sleep with him? Using my body?"
Selene yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her hand like a bored cat.
"You're the one who draws him like that," she mumbled.
"You're the one who keeps sending him pieces of yourself."