FENRIC'S POV
I stayed where I was, watching as Brammon moved.
His expression was carved from granite. The look he used whenever he wanted someone to shrink. It worked on every Scion I’d ever seen him face down.
And it was working just as well on Anwen. Her wide-eyed gaze lifted to his horns before dropping to his cold eyes.
The moment his boots angled toward her, she slipped behind me, as if I might shield her.
I didn’t.
I stepped aside, letting her lose that illusion as quickly as she had grasped it.
Her breath caught, and she had no choice but to retreat the other way, step by step, backing away as Brammon continued forward without pause.
Until her back hit the nightstand with a soft thud.
Brammon didn’t give her a second to recover. He set the tray down hard on the nightstand,
