28. Asena
I stare at his hand.
It is extended toward me, steady, expectant, as though the gesture is normal, harmless and polite even but everything in me resists it. I don’t know why.
There is something in the way he looks at me that makes my skin feel too tight, like I am being seen in a way I do not like, in a way I cannot control. His eyes do not just look, they linger, travel, assess and it makes me want to step back even though I force myself to stand still.
“Alessandro Hale,” he says smoothly, his lips curving into something that is almost a smile but not quite. “I believe introductions are in order.”
I hesitate just for a second because every instinct tells me not to touch him but logic pushes harder.
He is family to the twins and it's important and I am in their house and I
