Delilah’s POV
Sleep refused to come.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw it again. I saw Vincent’s hand closing around her wrist, his arm pulling her close before she could fall. She was the masked doctor and the way his body reacted before his mind did, it wasn’t casual.
By the time dawn crept through the curtains, the image had rooted itself like poison in my chest. I threw off the sheets and sat up, my entire being furious.
He had touched her. And not in the way a King touched a subordinate. It have been instinct or reflex but it was too familiar. The thought alone was enough to drive me out of bed.
I stood before the mirror and forced the tremor from my hands. My reflection was flawless just as the image before it—red silk, hair pinned like a crown, makeup sharp enough to draw bl
