Liora
The knife lowered another inch.
I could hear my heartbeat hammering after I narrowdly escape death and seeing him slowly losing his guards, lowering the knife he pointed to my neck—made me let out a breath that I didn't realize I was holding.
"Good girl," he said softly, his gaze locked onto me as his fingers tangled in my hair. He leaned down to inhale my scent, patting my head with satisfaction and tenderness that felt horribly misplaced after what he had done to me.
He's gone crazy.
When his gaze fell on me—never left me at all—it was burning with obsession, and those eyes were clearly warning me. That if I would do something funny right now, like escaping from him again, he wouldn't hesitate to drive the knife he had lowered from my throat back again to my throat
