CHAPTER 132
"Whose head?" Lucian repeated, his voice dropping an octave as he stepped fully into the kitchen.
The air in the room, which had just been warm and comfortable under the domestic cooking, suddenly felt thin, electric, and dangerously pressurized.
"I believe I heard my name mentioned in the same breath as a... prehistoric reptile?" Lucian mused, his eyes narrowing.
At the sound of that low, rumbling tone, the heat in Isabella's skin flared again—that fierce, radiating Lycan warmth that Clara had noticed earlier.
Isabella clutched her spoon like a weapon, her face flushing a deep, unmistakable crimson. "I... we were just..."
"We were discussing the challenges of dating in the modern era, Lucian," Clara interrupted, her voice perfectly calm, smooth as glass, and completely devoid of the humor she had just shared with Isabella.
