Page 62 of Savage Crown

I know exactly what she looks like standing there in the doorway, bathed in the low firelight—tall, elegant, lethal.

She always knew how to weaponize beauty, how to slide under the skin like a sickness, how to turn a man’s hunger into his downfall.

And I was weak for her once.

Not anymore.

I take a slow breath, keeping my voice even. "You should leave, Lartina."

A soft tsk from behind me. "So cold."

The door clicks shut.

And I know, without turning, that she’s locked it.

She moves like she owns the room.

Like she still owns me.

I hear the whisper of silk as she crosses the space between us, her fingertips skimming the edge of my desk as she circles—predator assessing prey.

"Are you truly sending me away without even a drink?" she murmurs, her voice like warm honey, thick with intention.

I force a smirk, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. "Do I seem like I’m in the mood for company?"

Her laughter is soft, knowing. A trap closing.

"You're never in the mood, Rylan."

A pause.

"Until you are."

I let her come closer.

Let her brush the back of her fingers against my jaw, let her fingertips skim down my chest, featherlight.

I need to know why she’s really here. What does she truly want?

Some part of me is still haunted by the ghost of what she was to me before everything burned.

Her breath fans against my skin as she leans in.

She smells of smoke and secrets, power and deception.

"I remember a time," she whispers, "when you wouldn’t have hesitated."

My pulse beats once—hard.

She presses a single fingertip to my chest. "When you wanted me more than your own breath."

I rest my eyes for a beat.

That part is true.

Once.

Once, I would have pulled her into me without a second thought. Would have let her sink into me like a dagger, let her ruin me in the way she’s always wanted.

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