IVY'S POV
"Were you attacked?" Nicholas asked, his voice dangerously low, like the quiet before a storm.
"No—" I stammered, my heart racing so violently I could feel it in my throat. "I… I bruised my neck while testing out too many clothes. It was an accident."
He scoffed, the sound cold and dripping with disbelief. His dark silver eyes burned into me, sharp and knowing, as if he could see straight through every lie I tried to weave. How did he know I was faking the fainting spell? Was it that obvious? My mind kept spiraling, replaying everything that had just happened with Seraphina at the window, the terror still clawing at my chest.
Then, without warning, he reached down and took my wrist — softly, almost gently. The contrast to the fury simmering in his gaze sent a confusing shiver through me. His touch was warm, controlled, possessive in a way that made my skin prickle.
"Come with me," he said, his voice too calm for a man whose eyes had just burned with rage.
