|Serena's POV|
The moment the doors shut behind me, sealing us into the storm of whatever this is, I meet Gryphon's eyes across the room like I'm squaring off with a predator who forgot he isn't supposed to want me.
He's already standing—good.
I wanted him to stand.
I wanted him to feel the shift in gravity the second I walked in.
Because I do.
The weight in the air, the burn in my throat, the pulse that rises with every second I hold his gaze. He stands there like sin in a suit, like rage carved from glass and fire, and somehow, it makes me even angrier.
I step further in, my heels like gunshots on polished marble, my coat sliding off my shoulders as if even it knows it won't be needed for what's about to happen here.
He doesn't speak. Of course he doesn't.
He watches me like I'm
