SERAPHINA
As Asher shoved Finn and Ronan out of the hall, my eyes flicked toward Ronan’s retreating figure, only to have my jaw seized roughly by the brothel owner’s hand.
“Eyes only on me,” he said, voice low and slow, thick with lust. His stare raked over my face like I was nothing more than a trinket on a merchant’s table. “Yes, like that,” he purred, his breath brushing across my skin like oil.
His thumb dragged from the corner of my lips, tracing the outline of my mouth with deliberate slowness, as though committing every inch to memory. I forced myself not to recoil, my lungs coiling in silent protest, the air thick with bile. Then his fingers slid lower along my jaw, down my throat every inch stoking a fire of nausea beneath my skin.
My wolf snarled deep within me, the growl alm
