SARA’S POV
I dragged Eamon down the hallway, my grip tight around his wrist. He didn’t fight me, but the stiffness in his arm said enough. Beneath my fingers, his muscles were coiled, tense like he was bracing for something worse than the silence between us.
Only when Ronan’s door was far behind us did I stop. Or rather, he did. I nearly stumbled from the momentum, my hand still clutching him like I couldn’t let go.
“What were you doing with him?” I asked, my voice low, clipped.
He glanced down at our hands, then back at me, something unreadable flickering across his face.
“I wanted to talk to his brother.”
There was no defensiveness in his tone, no guilt. Just the kind of honesty that unsettled more than it soothed.
“Why?” I pressed.
Eamon held my gaze. “Because I was curious abou
