Page 31 of Savage Crown

I glance at it only briefly before my attention snaps back to her.

"You’re late," I say, voice dangerously calm.

She exhales sharply. "You’re welcome."

Wrong answer.

I move fast before my mind can process my action.

She flinches—but only slightly—as my hands slam against the chair on either side of her, caging her in.

"You barely made it back," I murmur, voice low, measured. "Do you even know how stupid that was?"

She lifts her chin, refusing to shrink beneath my presence.

"I did what you asked," she grits out.

"At what cost?"

I shouldn’t care.

I shouldn’t be furious.

But I am.

Her lips twitch like she’s about to say something cutting, something to piss me off. But then—her balance wavers. I catch her instinctively. Her body leans into mine, just for a breath, just for a second. Just as quickly, she jerks away.

"I'm fine," she mutters.

I exhale sharply, stepping back.

I should let this go.

Instead, my eyes flick downward—and I see the wound on her ribs.

Deep. Sloppy.

I step forward.

She notices.

Her body tenses, but she doesn’t move away.

"Sit," I order.

She hesitates.

"Seraphina." My voice is a blade. "Sit. Down."

She exhales, but this time, she listens.

I move to the desk, retrieving a cloth and a vial of healing salve. When I turn back, she’s watching me warily, like she expects me to strike.

I don’t.

Instead, I kneel before her.

Her breath catches, just slightly.

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