Zolani’s pov.
My eyes snapped open towards sound of the voice
Cassian stood by the window, coat off, sleeves rolled up, arms crossed over his chest. The firelight carved shadows across his face, his sharp jaw, silver-streaked hair, eyes already bleeding crimson at the edges.
He’d been waiting in my room and in the dark.
My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I felt it in my throat.
He took one step forward slowly, his boots silent on the rug.
“You talked to him,” he said, voice calm. Too calm, it was scary. “You let him take you out. You let him buy you things. You let him kiss your hand.”
I pressed my back against the door, palms flat, and breathing shallow.
“I… it was just coffee. Shopping. Nothing happened.”
His smile was slow, and dangerous, without humor.
“Nothing happen
