Page 162 of Change

He had to have a general idea of what happened—he’d said he could smell them; he’d asked if they were dead.

But it hadn’t felt real until now.

I’d almost been raped.

I thought that part of my life was over.

Right now, there were other things to focus on, but I couldn’t.

It wasn’t working anymore. I couldn’t think of anything else. Which was entirely stupid, because nothing did happen in the end.

I’d gotten away.

So why did it feel the same?

A sob hitched in my throat as the final thread that was holding my sanity in place, snapped.

But then I couldn’t breathe as his arms closed around me, pulling me into the suffocating cage of his embrace. “I’m sorry.”

I opened my eyes, his apology shocking me out of my thoughts, as my fingers gripped at his upper arm. It was impossible to make out my surroundings outside of the slightly shaking shadows on the ceiling because of the way he was holding me, but I didn’t need to see anything.

He would keep me safe now.

“This shouldn’t have happened,” his voice rumbled low against my neck.

But that wasn’t right. Nothing happened, really.

So why was I acting this way? I didn’t understand.

“You have every right to be upset,” Titus continued as he moved his right arm from my shoulders, rubbing his hand lightly down the center of my back. “And I’m sorry you had to take care of it on your own.”

My grip tightened, and the tight noose that had been wrapped around my heart loosened.

“But I’m proud of you,” he said, the sincerity of his voice winding its way down through the broken recesses of my thoughts. “You did good.”

Even though he really didn’t have any idea what I might have or might not have done, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit better at his words. The heavy darkness began to lighten, and my vision blurred.

So… did that mean it was okay? I was okay?

But I wasn’t. It wasn’t fine at all. So why wasn’t he treating me any different?

“There you are.” Jameson’s almost-bored accusation overturned the beginnings of my newfound peace. My vision cleared, and I could see him, lazily watching us from the open doorway from where we entered the room. “I was beginning to think that maybe you did jump, after all.”

Dread caused my breath to choke in the back of my throat, and—before I even realized that I’d moved—I buried my face into Titus’s shirt, almost clawing at him to escape the onmyoji’s notice.

Titus, on the other hand, grew silent and still as stone. He was still touching my back, but where a moment before his aura had been soft and comforting, now something powerful and menacing began to radiate from him.

But not toward me, and instead of being scared, my hysteria vanished.

“Whatexactlydid you do to her?” His voice was a scary calm that might have once shocked me, but not now.

Not after everything else.

“Why’s she scared of you?” he asked, now hiding me from the onmyoji’s sight. “Were you the one who issued that spell?”

“It’s just a little spell, but you know I’m no witch, so I’m not sure what she has against me,” Jameson coolly replied. “We’ve only just become acquainted a day ago. Surely it’s not enough time to formulate a lasting impression.” He was silent a moment longer before adding, “But that does make me wonder,whyare you so enamored with Bryce Dubois’s wife?”

Something in his words set Titus off, and he growled low in this throat before leaning forward, tucking me further into the space between the emergency exit and the seat and moving to his feet. He put his back to me, acting as a shield between us.