GRAYSON'S CONTROL WAS FRACTURING.
He could feel it—the careful walls he'd built crumbling under her steady, knowing gaze.
He grabbed her wrist, intending to remove her hand.
Instead, he held it there, pressed against his chest, his fingers tight around her delicate bones.
For a long moment, neither spoke. The only sound was their breathing and the distant activity of security teams outside.
Then Grayson released her abruptly and turned to the window.
"You should rest," he said, his voice returning to that flat, controlled tone. "The wards will take effect fully by nightfall. Until then, stay away from the windows."
"You're going to keep being like this."
He didn't respond. Just kept his back to her, hands clasped behind him in a position that looked casual but was anything but.
Mailah made a sound of frustration. "Fine. Be cold and tactical. But you can't kiss me like that and then pretend it meant nothing."
