Severine wanted nothing more than to bolt to her room—to scrub the lingering, oily sensation of Damien's presence off her skin.
But as she moved to swing the heavy door at the main entrance shut, a hand with well-defined knuckles shot out. It slapped against the wood with a dull thud.
The door didn't just stop; it was forced backward with a strength that made Severine take a hasty step back.
Only when she noticed it was Killian did she exhale in relief.
The young lord's silhouette appeared predatory in the dim light.
Unlike before, he didn't wait for an invitation, nor did he have his usual goofy grin.
He slammed the door shut behind him, the bang echoing through the cavernous space like a gunshot, sealing them into the suffocating silence.
His eyes were no longer the calm, calculating pool. They burned a scorching, unnatural crimson, fixed entirely on her mouth.
"Do you like him?" he rasped, his hoarse voice vibrating with a low, dangerous edge.
