The storm had only gotten worse. The wind was blowing harshly. The waves crashed so hard against the railing that it rattled.
Overhead, the rain poured over us. It drenched our clothes and it made me shiver.
But we weren’t playing in it anymore. There was no laughter. There was no dancing. There was no peace or sentiment to it.
No.
That was long over.
There is only pain and death and that feeling of dread that chills my spine.
“Grim, stop,” I gasped, heart in my throat, air unable to get to my lungs. “Please, you’re hurting me.”
But Grim, with his hands on my neck, only held it tighter, my legs dangling off the edge of the terrace, his hand on my neck, the hand choking me was the only thing keeping me from falling to my death. But it was also... killing me.
He didn’t speak.
H
