Irvin's POV
Every muscle in my body locked up solid.
My bones turned to stone, my thoughts slammed into a brick wall. For a heartbeat, I convinced myself I'd heard wrong—but Benjamin's voice cut through again, more definite this time.
My father.
My goddamn father.
What the fuck was he doing here?
Across the room, Davina's gaze snapped to me, pure terror flooding her features. She jerked upright, palm flying to cover her mouth, yanking the fabric against her chest like it could protect her from whatever might burst through that door. Her hands started shaking.
I didn't realize my fists had clenched until my nails bit into my palms. The room's air felt like it had been vacuum-sealed. Just the thought of my father's presence—even hearing his name—was like a black hole draining everything good from the space.
My brain went into overdrive.
Hell no. Hell no. Hell no.
My father couldn't lay eyes on Davina. Not in this room. Not in this state.
Not fucking ever.
