If you’ve read Warped, then you’ve met Gideon. Are you wondering what happened to make Gideon such a bastard? Here’s a teaser to the continuation of his story!
Gideon stalked from side to side of the cavern, passing the fire opal by on every passage. It glowed dimly, and he knew it was absorbing their emotions. There was nothing he could do, though. It was just a stone the size of a chicken egg, waiting for Silas to come take it long after their deaths.
He’s survived almost two millennia only to have another jinn be his downfall. He’d always been wary of the other jinn, knowing that there was much infighting, but he’d never thought that one would willingly kill him in such a crude manner.
“Jess told me not to trust you – or any jinn,” Thea said to him from her seat on the floor beside the nonexistent exit.
“She was right,” he muttered. “Everyone around me dies.”
“I suppose that’s what happens when you stab the people that love you,” she responded sweetly.
He stopped in front of her and glared down at her. “What do you know about that?” he spat, unable to keep the anger from his voice.
She looked up at him, unperturbed by his outburst. Her fingers ran up and down her muddy jeans. “Only what Jess told me. She was freeing you from a curse and fell in love with you. You two had a short fling before she broke your curse, and then you stabbed her and left her for dead.”
“She wouldn’t have died from it,” he said, thin brows furrowed. “I only wanted to keep her away – and it worked, didn’t it?”
At his snarky comment, she shook her head. She rolled a stone between her fingers and flung it away, watching it bounce over the rough floor. “Why would you want to hurt her?”
His hands clenched in fists, and he gritted his teeth. He felt her stare on his back and refused to give in to his anger. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“You can’t stand to let anyone get close to you, can you?” she asked – more of a statement than a question. “It scares you.”
At that direct statement, he turned towards her and glared, letting her see the anger roiling beneath the surface. “Nothing scares me.”
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