Scarlett's POV
Back inside the room, where he had just dragged me off again, he slammed the door shut so hard that the echo vibrated through the walls. He was still carrying me in his arms, walking toward his king-sized bed, and gently placed me on it—setting me down with more gentleness than his anger had suggested.
His hand lingered at my wrists, as though he feared if he let go, I would run away from him again— which he thought, but in fact, I really wouldn't.
"Are you angry with me, Lucien?" I asked the most obvious thing, looking at his expression.
He let out a heavy sigh, kneeling before me. "Who wouldn't be when you don't take your pain seriously, Scarlett?"
I blinked at him. "I am. I take myself seriously. I really am fine."
"Fine? You were paler than a sheet of paper, Scarle
