Seraphina's POV
Mortimer's gaze was a silent, scorching weight, pinned right on me.
Something was off.
The air felt heavy. I followed his line of sight down and my heart skipped a beat.
The silk of my robe had betrayed me, sliding low enough to expose the line of my collarbone and the curve of my chest under the warm amber lights.
I felt a jolt of panic and yanked the lapels shut, trying to kill the sudden, suffocating tension.
But the movement only made it worse. The slight rush of air seemed to fan the sparks between us.
I watched Mortimer's pupils blow wide, his dark eyes swallowing the light.
His Alpha pheromones turned thick, syrupy, and dangerously aggressive.
He surged off the sofa and lunged toward me.
At five-seven, I'm not short, but against his six-foot-three frame, I
