Nadia's Point Of View
The words hung in the air between us, heavy with years of longing, of resentment, of desperate need. I'd watched them from the shadows for so long, studied their every move, learned their weaknesses. And now, finally, I was going to claim what should have been mine from the beginning.
Lucian let out a low, disbelieving laugh, the sound rich and dark, like velvet dragging across stone. "You're delusional," he slurred, his words slightly thick, his eyes struggling to focus on me. "Azriel would sooner cut off his own hand than touch you."
The words stung, but I ignored the pain. I'd grown used to their dismissals, their casual cruelty. But that was about to change. Everything was about to change.
I ignored him. My gaze was locked on Azriel, on the way his chest rose and fell a little too quickly, on the flush creeping up his neck. Yes. It's working. The drug was stripping away his defenses, peeling back the layers of control he wore like armor.
