Cecelia’s POV
The glass bottle rolled across the cold concrete floor with a loud clatter, and before I could even take a single step backward toward the stairs, River moved with an impossible speed that didn’t look human at all, his large frame instantly blocking the entrance of the narrow stairwell.
I tried to scramble behind the largest wine crate to hide my face, but the air in the small cellar room shifted completely, and I could tell by the sharp look in his eyes that he already caught my scent because he stopped pacing and turned his head directly toward my dark corner.
“You can stop hiding behind those wooden crates, Cecelia, I could smell your fear the exact second that bottle hit the ground, and we both know there is no point in pretending you are not here,” River said, his voi
