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The Pain of Dying Preamaturely

Emory

Jacob’s pale skin catches the moonlight as he comes toward me, his pace surprisingly human now, a bit cautious. I can’t anticipate what he’s waiting for, but I wish I knew. Maybe then, if I had some kind of an inkling as to what he’s up to, I would be able to do something to get away from him.

My eyes immediately go to the library floor below me, but it’s so far. Even if I had my wolf, which I don’t, I am pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to make that leap and walk away unscathed. I wouldn’t mind breaking all four of my limbs if it meant getting away from Jacob, but there’s no point in contemplating something I can’t do anyway. I can’t shift, and if I did, I would just be easier for him to catch with four broken legs.

Vampires can easily leap down from heights of this distance with no problem whatsoever.

Me, in my human form? Nope.

Still, he feels the urge to say, “I wouldn’t even think about it, bitch. You jump down there, you’re just going to die a more painful, slower death.”

I
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