Have you forgotten the way I made you writhe in your sleep?
The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.
Her mind reeled, rewinding through the last few weeks. The phantom touches. The cold, skilled fingers that had slipped beneath her sheets while her husbands slept inches away.
The invisible presence that had teased her to the edge of madness and left her aching.
She had blamed the Tiger. She had assumed it was Torian, the arrogant King of the south, playing games with his food.
But it was him.
"You," Roxy whispered, her eyes widening as she stared into the neon-green abyss of Syris's gaze. "It was you who did all that?"
Syris didn't deny it. He just watched her, his vertical pupils dilating slightly, savoring the dawn of her realization.
A chill that had nothing to do with his cold skin swept through Roxy. He had been there. He had been inside her sanctuary, touching her, tasting her, while she was vulnerable.
