I was not prepared to see Rowan again. I had barely begun processing what had happened and who he really was. I could feel his presence when he walked into the room. I could feel his eyes on my back. My heart squeezed in my chest, that familiar sense of pain bubbling in the back of my throat.
I felt torn. A part of me wanted to run to him, throw my arms around him in that desperate craving for safety. Eva noticed how I crossed my arms across my chest, fighting that ache inside me that craved his touch. But I was so angry, so bitterly angry that I couldn't even look at him.
Eva greeted Rowan in Italian, then gestured to me and said, “Safe and sound like I promised."
“You will let Astrid go now," Rowan replied without any pleasantries. “She's not a part of any of this." His gravelly voi
