|Serena's POV|
The silence in the car isn't silence at all. It's thick with unsaid things, like smoke that clings to skin and curls inside lungs, slow and suffocating. Gryphon sits beside me like a shadow sculpted into something solid—his hands spread wide on the leather seat like he's trying to contain the storm still raging beneath his skin. The tension in the car is alive, sentient, stretching between us like a pulled thread that could snap with one wrong breath.
I feel it.
God, I feel it.
The crackle of energy around him, the simmering violence hiding beneath the tailored perfection of his suit, the way he doesn't touch me—but the ghost of his fingertips dances over every inch of my skin anyway. It's always like this with Gryphon. He doesn't need to speak to command the air. He doe
