Page 15 of Savage Crown

Rylan doesn’t move right away. Instead, he watches me for a heartbeat longer than necessary, as if waiting for something.

Lazily, he lifts his glass to his lips and calls out, "Enter."

The door glides open on silent hinges, and the smell of amber and something darker, something venomous slithers into the room.

I don’t need to turn to know who it is.

I feel her before I see her.

"Rylan," a voice purrs, smooth as velvet, edged with poison.

Lady Lartina.

She steps into the room like she owns it, her presence cold and commanding. Her gown—black as midnight, kissed withsilver embroidery—clings to her tall, elegant frame. The deep violet of her lips curves into something that isn’t quite a smile, and her crimson eyes flick toward me.

A pause. A slow once-over. A calculated lingering.

I keep my expression blank, but my pulse quickens.

I know women like her. Women who smile as they carve knives into your back. Women who will burn entire cities just to watch the embers glow.

She is dangerous.

And Rylan let her in.

She turns her attention back to him, ignoring me like I’m a piece of furniture. "I was hoping we could talk in private."

Rylan takes another slow sip of his wine. "And yet, you’re talking in front of an audience."

Her lips curve. "So I am."

My fists tighten at my sides, nails digging into my palms.

He’s testing me. This is a test.

And I can’t afford to fail.

I say nothing. I do nothing. But I feel everything.

Lartina moves toward him, slow, deliberate. "It’s been too long," she murmurs, resting one perfectly manicured hand on the tip of his chair. "You’ve been avoiding me."

Rylan smirks. "Have I?"

"You have."

She leans in, her fingers trailing along the carved wood of his chair, just shy of touching him. Her crimson gaze flickers to his mouth, then back to his eyes. A practiced dance. A well-worn intimacy.

I should look away.

I don’t.

I need to see this.

I need to understand what she is to him.

Rylan doesn’t move. Doesn’t pull away. But he also doesn’t indulge.

"You don’t like being ignored," he muses.

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