His face darkens like a summer storm blackening the sky, sudden and intense. I hold perfectly still, worried my arrival has upset him, but his hand slowly lifts to my neck with a featherlight touch. “Is that bruising around your throat?” His words are stilted from the effort of restrained violence. I’d been so worried about Christiano’s threats, I hadn’t given a thought to whether his assault had left a mark. Clearly, it had. “Christiano came by the cottage this morning,” I tell him warily. I had wanted him to know, but the terrifying look on his face consumes me with worry. Not for myself. I’m scared of what Zeno might do on my behalf. “He did this?” I nod. “What exactly did he say?” “He told me to stay away from you. That he has plans for you, and I’m getting in the way.” I dive into his
