It was maddening to accept that Damien had left her like this. Bound. Helpless. Furious. Her frustration was off the scale. Every inch of her skin burned with it, and every ragged breath she took pulsed with the bitter reminder of her failed escape.
Amelia’s pulse thundered in her ears as the cold, unforgiving metal of the cuffs bit into the delicate flesh of her wrists. Damien had snapped them on with calculated precision—each click echoing with dominance. The cuffs, gleaming in the dim light, anchored her to the headboard, a stark reminder of the consequences of her attempted escape and defiance. The room smelled of him, of leather and spice, wrapping around her like an invisible shackle, just as binding as the ones on her wrists.
Her body trembled, not just from the chill of the metal
