Alpha Kenzo's hand dwarfed mine, nearly twice its size, yet his grip was impossibly gentle, as though cradling something fragile. I managed an awkward smile and squeezed his hand harder, subtly trying to prove I wasn’t made of porcelain. His response was immediate—his hold shifted, firming in a way that sent an unspoken challenge while his eyes bore dangerously into mine. We stood locked in a strange, electric silence, the air thickening around us.
His thumb traced slow, deliberate circles against my palm, igniting a cascade of shivers that flooded my body. The sensation was unbearable, and I jerked my hand back, hurriedly scratching the spot where his touch lingered, as though I could erase it. He smirked.
“So… Lady Thalassa, do you wander this garden often?” His voice was laced with am
