The black sedan was silent, slicing through the midnight streets of Obsidian Bay. Kaelen sat beside Seraphina, his shoulder barely grazing hers. He was quiet, allowing her time to process the violence and the subsequent lie he had sold to Magnus. The fragile, pathetic husband facade had saved them, but Seraphina was no longer grateful. She was analyzing.
The image of Damien Holt’s face, contorted in silent, agonizing terror, was burned into her mind. Damien was powerful, arrogant, and vicious. He was not a man who ever conceded control, yet Kaelen had reduced him to a paralyzed, gasping puppet with two precise, casual touches.
“What was that pressure point?” Seraphina asked, her voice quiet but razor-sharp.
Kaelen shifted, putting a nerv
