"Elara," he warned. It wasn't a request. It was a growl. "What? I’m just being friendly." I leaned in closer, my chest almost brushing his tunic. I could hear his heart thumping—fast and heavy, just like mine. "Are you scared of me?" "I'm scared of what I'll do to you if you don't shut up," he rasped. He didn't move away. Instead, he reached out and grabbed my wrist. His hand was huge, his fingers wrapping all the way around, his skin rough and hot against mine. The shock of the touch went straight to my gut, making my breath hitch.