Isla's POV
“I just escaped death, Killian. You should know I need some space for myself.” My voice was low, trembling, but I forced the words out.
I tried to sit upright on the bed, but his presence loomed over me. He wasn’t ready to let me go.
His eyes burned, red rimmed, and his chest rose with uneven breaths. “So you can retry the mission you failed at, right?” he asked, voice rough.
The way he said it, accusing, made my stomach twist.
I was scared, a part of me flinched, wondering if his anger might spill over into something worse if I kept pushing. Still, the questions inside me refused to quiet down.
I needed to know where I stood. I needed to know what I was to him.
“This is my life, Killian!” I shouted, my voice breaking as I leaned forward, fists clenched in the blanket.
