Lena
Gunnar raised his hand high, his fingers clenching into a massive iron fist.
I gasped, flinching hard, throwing my arms up over my face. Every instinct in my body screamed that the blow was coming. My heart hammered wildly against my ribs as I braced for the impact of his knuckles.
Thud!
The blow didn't tear into my skin. His fist slammed into the solid oak door inches above my head, the impact echoing through the study like a thunderclap. Wood splintered under the force, dust and shavings drifting down over my hair.
I trembled, peeking through my arms. He loomed over me, his red eyes burning with a terrible, unholy light.
Before I could speak, he yanked the iron latch, threw the door open, and grabbed my arm. His grip was cold iron through the velvet as he hauled me into the co
