NOELLE
Hours later, the door shuts behind Azalea and their mother, Danika. Apparently, they had somewhere important to go and couldn't wait to hang out with me soon. She had insisted that I call her, like we were already family. And now, the penthouse suddenly feels too small. Too full of him.
Azren hasn't moved from the chair across from me. He's still in the same black shirt he wore when he ripped us through that rift, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. His elbows rest on the dining table, his hands loosely clasped, but his eyes... they're different now.
They aren't blank like before. They are hungrier and darker, like the eyes of a predator deciding whether to pounce or play.
My stomach flips. Heat crawls up my neck so fast I have to press my thighs together under the oversized shirt
