I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid of him. I repeat the words in my head, but they change nothing. Flashbacks of Canum’s threats, the memory of his lackeys forcing Edge down my throat, numb me into paralyzing fear.
“You made it.” Phantom’s voice is low, edged with awe. His gaze locks on me, steady, unflinching. “Princess… calling you beautiful would undersell it. You look like a dream.” His eyes linger, intent, as though the room itself has fallen away. “That dress—perfect.” His fingers brush the refined red fabric draping over my shoulders, a touch deliberate, restrained. My pulse stutters.
“Thank you. I figured since you insist on calling me princess, I should try to look like one for at least one night.” I wink.
His mouth curves, slow and dangerous. “You always look like a princess.
