Serenya's POV
I feel the car start to decelerate, the quiet shift in momentum tugging me slightly forward. Darian’s hands tighten around the wheel, knuckles pale against the leather. The streetlights drag long streaks of gold and white across the dashboard, reflecting off the glass and catching on the ring curled against my finger. It hums faintly—low, warm, insistent—each pulse a reminder that every second I keep it on comes with a price I’ll have to pay later.
He doesn’t speak.
Not a word.
Just the muted growl of the engine and the thrum of the road beneath us.
The silence is thick enough to choke on. I focus on counting my breaths—steady, deep, controlled—my way of keeping the rising pressure in my chest from breaking loose. The ring’s heat nudges closer to discomfort, but I keep m
