Page 46 of Savage Crown

Watching.

Wanting.

I curse under my breath, gripping the dagger so hard my knuckles ache.

"This means nothing."

The words sound hollow in my own head.

To believe is to give my trust.

I don’t believe because of the way he looked at me—like he was on the precipice of something deadly, something uncontrollable—wasn’t nothing.

It was everything.

And I’m clueless as what to do with it.

A sound.

Soft, distant—but I know I’m not alone.

I stiffen, turning sharply, dagger raised.

But I don’t need to see the figure in the doorway to know who it is.

The air shifts.

And then—his voice.

Low. Rough. Like he hasn’t slept either.

"You always train when you’re running from something?"

I hate that my breath stutters.

I hate that he sounds so damn calm when I know he’s just as wrecked as I am.

I force myself to straighten, gripping the dagger tighter. "Idon’t run."

His lips curl slightly. "No," he murmurs. "You don’t."

He takes a step inside. The flickering torchlight catches on the tip of his silver-streaked hair, casting his emerald eyes into shadowed depths.

I hold my ground.

But I feel it.

The pull.

The thing neither of us will name.

He doesn’t move closer.

He doesn’t need to.

He’s already too close.

"You shouldn’t be here," I say, voice steady. Distant.

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