The world snapped into shards.
Boots hit the floor in a deafening rhythm—guards shouting, alarms wailing in the distance—but all of it faded under the weight of Asher’s body crushing me into the cold tile. His fingers tangled in my hair like he had every right to hold me there, to press his mouth against my temple as if this moment belonged to us.
“You’re mine,” he rasped again, voice rough from the bite I’d left in his shoulder. “And you know it, Ava. You’ve always known it.”
I bucked beneath him, throat raw from screaming, but he only laughed, low and dark, like my struggle was a song he’d been waiting years to hear again. His knee pinned my thigh, one palm braced beside my head as his other hand tightened at the nape of my neck.
Not enough to choke.
Not yet.
Just enough to remind
