AMANDA
“Say that to me again,” Conan growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that sent shivers down my spine.
I clenched my fists, trying to steady my breath. He looked so much like Luther, standing there with that same sharp jawline, those piercing eyes, except right now he was pissed. And not just because I’d slammed his door open. No, it was because I’d interrupted him while he was with her.
Scarlet.
That w***e lounged on his bed, a smug look on her face as she ran her fingers through her crimson hair. I met her gaze, and something inside me snapped. I hissed at her, the sound low and primal. Right now, I didn’t care what she thought. Or what Conan thought. I was beyond that.
This wasn’t about them.
“Well?” Conan barked, his eyes narrowing as he pulled on his shirt, muscles fl
