CHAPTER 67
The words, “Do not cover them,” vibrated through Lauren with the force of a command, yet the raw, demanding quality of Ryle’s voice stripped the order of any clinical coldness.
Her arms, which had instinctively crossed over her chest in a final, defensive gesture of modesty, felt like heavy, unnecessary weights. When his hand reached out—gently, but with absolute firmness—to draw her arms away, she offered no resistance.
He needs to see all of you. The thought echoed in her mind, not as an invasion, but as a terrifyingly beautiful confirmation. All her life, her body had been a tool—for defense, for survival, or in the terrifying gaze of Valerius, a commodity to be exploited. But Ryle’s voice, his admission that he needed to see her, transformed the exposure into an act of p
