(Adelaide & The Devil)
“Apollo.”
The name felt strange on her tongue—too soft, too human, too real for the creature who had ripped her from the world she knew. She didn’t mean to speak it aloud. The sound simply escaped, barely a whisper. It slid out like an accident, like breath forced from her lungs after a fall—unplanned, uncontrollable, treacherous.
But it hit him like a blow. His pupils dilated. His chest rose sharply. The glow of the tattoo on his arm flared and dimmed again, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Her heartbeat.
Adelaide jerked the fur tighter around herself. The movement sent a jolt of pain through her ribs, grounding her in the ache of her own body instead of the way he was looking at her.
“No,” she said quickly, breath shaking. “No, I’m not calling you that. You don’t—yo
