“Adrian—” Ariana choked out, but her voice died as he took another step, shadow swallowing the weak pool of moonlight.
His jaw was clenched so tightly she could hear his teeth grind. His eyes burned—not with anger, but something far worse. Something possessive. Something terrifying.
The man staggered back while holding his ribs, blood dribbling from his mouth. “You can’t stop it,” he rasped. “Not anymore.”
Adrian didn’t even look at him. His gaze stayed locked on Ariana, like she was the only person in the world who mattered.
Like he was watching her slip away.
“Come here,” he said, low and commanding.
Ariana’s heart jumped. “Adrian, don’t—”
“Now, Ariana.”
Her breath hitched. This wasn’t anger. This wasn’t control.
This was fear.
His fear.
The man let out a humorless laugh, bent
