The ruin felt hotter than the fire that burned low in the corner. Clara’s chest heaved, her knives now discarded, her hands curling into fists as if she didn’t trust herself not to use them.
Lyra lounged against the wall, her silver hair cascading down, golden eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. Both women stared at Kael like predators ready to pounce, but with hunger instead of bloodlust.
Kael leaned back on his hands, letting the silence stretch. He could hear the people outside whistling through broken cracks of stone, the faint stench of decay carried with it. Inside, though, it was all heat—jealousy, desire, and the suffocating tension that came from two women determined to claim him.
"So," Kael drawled, his smirk cutting the tension even sharper. "Which one of you wants to pro
