*Tia*
The growl that echoes through the room is that of a wounded animal. I spin around to see Killian charging toward me. I almost hike up my skirts and run. But I have fled twice before in my life, and nothing good has come from it.
This time I stand my ground. He tosses his glass aside. It lands on the rug without shattering. Then his hands are on my waist, and he lifts me onto the desk, coming to stand between my legs.
His green eyes are feral, filled with rage. I think I should be frightened, but I trust that no matter how mad he might get, he won’t hurt me. His pride is bruised, scored, battered. I can see that now, wish I had understood earlier what it was costing him to toil in the mines. Why can’t he see how remarkable it makes him that he doesn’t simply sit back and hope for t
