Elena’s breath caught in her throat when Luca stepped into the room, blood streaking down his cheek, and his usually composed face was now twisted with urgency and tension. His eyes, dark and stormy, locked onto hers with such intensity that she felt the weight of his gaze more than ever before.
“Luca—” Her voice faltered, the words lost in the chaos of the moment. She wanted to ask if he was hurt, wanted to demand what had happened outside, but something in his expression told her that wasn’t what mattered right now.
He glanced behind him, his sharp senses always alert, before stepping forward and gently pulling the door closed. His hand lingered on the handle for a moment longer than necessary, as if locking them both in this room was the only thing keeping them safe—safe from the viol
