Layla's POV
Freja was still laughing about the sound of Kian's wrist snapping as I poured the wine into two glasses. She said I should've stepped on him while he was down, just to make sure he remembered who held the power in that elevator.
I set the glass down on the counter a little harder than I meant to. I felt irritated, and I didn't know why. For some reason, tonight, the villa was too quiet. It was too clean and it smelled wrong somehow and Freja's intermittent bursts of laughter were starting to put me on edge.
Gabriel came up behind me before I could tell her to shut up and his arms locked tight around my ribs, his chest pressed to my back, his wolf's aura rolling over mine like a soothing tide.
"Do you pity him?" he asked, in a low, steady, voice. It felt dangerous
