His tone, though sharp, was still held together by the thinnest thread of restraint. This was the Royal Palace, not his own territory. He couldn't unleash his full temper—not here. He reminded himself that this was supposed to be Claire's domain, not his, and that was the only reason he was still holding back.
Claire's eyes widened as she caught sight of Zion's expression, tight-lipped, jaw clenched, and clearly struggling to keep his temper in check. He wasn't even slightly affected by her pheromones. If anything, he looked like he was fighting the urge to breathe, as if inhaling the air around them might make him physically ill.
"Please…" Claire whispered one last time, her voice barely audible and desperate.
But Zion didn't say a word; instead, he turned on his heel and stormed out, his silence cutting deeper than any insult.
If Claire refused to leave, then he would. He had no patience to waste on her games.
