Nate’s POV
“Stop. Just…stop.”
I wasn’t speaking to a person. I was speaking to my own hands.
They were trembling, a fine, rhythmic tremor that no amount of deep breathing seemed capable of suppressing. I stood in the corridor outside the Gold Room, staring down at my knuckles as they turned white around the edge of my tablet.
The moment the heavy oak door had clicked shut, severing the connection between us, the vertigo had hit me so hard I’d nearly gone to my knees.
The silence was gone, and that was the worst part.
For the ten minutes I had been in that room, standing within the dampening field of her bio-electric aura, the constant, grating roar of the demon blood in my veins, the white noise I had lived with for three centuries, had simply vanished.
It had been replaced by a vel
