Amaya woke in the middle of the night, sweat slick on her skin. She'd dreamed of him—Adrian's lips, Adrian's hands. It made her sick.
Shoving the sheets aside, she stormed to the balcony for air. The city glittered beneath her, mocking her prison. She clutched the railing, whispering, I'll never fall for him. Never.
A voice broke the silence.
"Then why do you look like you're already mine?"
She spun. Adrian stood there, shirt unbuttoned, eyes dark in the moonlight. He stepped closer, his presence suffocating and magnetic all at once.
"Get out," she snapped.
But instead of leaving, he reached for her wrist, his thumb brushing her pulse. "Your body betrays you, Amaya. It trembles when I'm near."
Her breath hitched, fury warring with something she couldn't name. She yanked her hand free. "One day, Adrian, I'll destroy you."
His smile was slow, cruel, and yet… almost tender.
"I look forward to seeing you try."
He walked away, leaving her shaken and furious with herself—for the heat still lingering in her veins.